


The Curious Journey of Gob Bluth

by giraffeofpaper



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 46,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giraffeofpaper/pseuds/giraffeofpaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gob struggles with feelings, sexuality, and acceptance of who he is, who he loves, and what he has become. Meanwhile, the police force seeks out the reason for Lucille 2's disappearance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forgetting Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> _Hey guys :)  
>  _Some of you may have read my first fic (Makes Me Wonder), and I want you all to know that in some ways this fic is very different, and in others it is very similar. Makes Me Wonder was written out of a desire for more blunder fic. There was very little around, and I wanted to contribute. I had never written fan fiction before even though I was always a writer as a teenager (and slipped away for a bit) but I threw Makes Me Wonder together quickly and with some trace of direction but not much of one. I wrote the whole thing in a week, with no pre-planning. This is where this new fic differs. I've been working on outlines and chapters and plots and references and just all sorts of general planning for this fic for over two weeks now. It is much more complicated, much more calculated and, in my opinion, will end up being much more satisfying. Because everything is planned out I am hoping to get chapters out reasonably quickly, at least every few days, and I would always appreciate feedback if anyone has any - positive or negative! I'm still new to fan fic and just getting back into writing, so every little bit helps.__
> 
> __Now, what's the SAME about this fic? Probably my writing style, and the sort of content you can expect. This stuff is not going to be smutty although there may be some scents of it here and there, but it will be largely plot driven with bits of humor and some subtle references that may require re-reads to catch. It also focuses largely on Gob as the main character, which the last one largely did as well, with his thoughts on the Tony incident. Oh yeah - it also starts in the same place! But this time, the two fics go two completely different directions. In Makes Me Wonder, Gob chooses to continue through with the sex date that evening, but in this fic, he runs away from the feelings he feels, and from the hurt he has found in Tony forgetting, and struggles to find himself again._ _
> 
> ___Finally, this fic is going to be long. Really long. I want it to be like, short novel length. It may be as short as 30 000 words, but I'm hoping to aim for 50 - 70 000. I also plan to treat it sort of like NaNoWriMo even though it's July, so I plan to have this fic done by July 31st. Trust me - it will be written. And if you feel it's not coming quickly enough? Shoot me a message here or on tumblr (I'm origamigiraffes)._ _ _
> 
> ____Love you guys! Enjoy :)_ _ _ _

“Hi Gobie - It’s Tony! You still on for our sex date tonight?”  
  
    It had been 2 hours since Gob received the fateful message from Tony, and despite having now listened to it a total of 14 times, he still had no idea how to deal with it. It seemed unfair that he had to remember, when everyone else got to forget - Michael forgot what he saw, Tony forgot the entire sex date ordeal, but here he was, remembering. He was haunted by what he’d told Michael after the incident, and how true it rang - “if you were ashamed of _being in love with a man_ , and _suddenly discovered these new feelings._ ”  There was more that he’d said, but he thought that the whole thing really boiled down to those first two points - he was in love with a man, and ashamed of it. Never in his life had he felt feelings like this before, and quite frankly, Gob didn’t like it. He didn’t like how that morning when his phone had rung his heart had leapt in his chest, practically screaming, “It’s Tony! It’s Tony!”, and he liked even less how every time he listened to that fateful message his heart felt like it was being torn into a million pieces.  
  
    “Hi Gobie - It’s Tony! You still on for our sex date tonight?”  
  
    Inexplicably, he kept listening to it. It hurt like crazy but it was as if he couldn’t help but push the replay button over and over. Tony’s voice was so sweet - the way he said his name made Gob feel whole, like he’d never felt before. The message was so short, but contained so much. Tony seemed excited for the sex date... that he’d already had and had chosen to forgotten. The joy in his voice made Gob temporarily forget the situation he was in, but only for a moment. Then the darkness sank in again, like a heavy weight, dragging him down. Tony had chosen to forget their love, their love making, and all the good that they had, and just how happy they truly were. In Gob’s attempt to get revenge he had only hurt himself. And now all these _feelings._  
  
    Gob had never had feelings before. He had been with a lot of women. He knew what an erection felt like. But that was about all he knew. But the way Tony made him giggle and smile his crooked smile, and left him listening to this same damn message over and over? This was unacceptable! Gob was supposed to be unbreakable (although in reality, he’d never been very good at this), and not feeling like he wanted to sleep with the same person twice, two nights in a row. That was almost like... a relationship. That was something Gob had no interest in at all, or so he told himself. He’d been in several relationships and they had all turned out disastrous, yet a small part of him was crying for a relationship with Tony. Clearly the only solution to these feelings was to return to his old life, and seek out some women, no, _lots_ of women, and sleep with them all, and push every ounce of feeling away for good.  
  
    “Hi Gobie - It’s Tony! You still on for our sex date tonight?”  
      
    He listened to it a final time, 16 times in total. Despite the fact that it was now firmly engrained in his memory, it took all his strength to push the button on his phone to delete the message, and it felt like a piece of him was broken off as the phone declared, _“Message Deleted.”_ Good. Good riddance feelings. Break away and let me be! Gob vowed to himself to never have feelings again for anything. With this vow, he had no intention of calling Tony back, but he did have some calls to make. There were women who’d slept with him before - they’d surely sleep with him again, wouldn’t they? And it wasn’t a relationship if the times you had sex were months or even years apart, was it?  
  
    Scrolling through his phone, Gob was surprised at the number of phone numbers he had accumulated, and how few of them he recognized. He’d never tried to keep track of the numbers, because he’d never planned to call any of them again, yet this time he was glad that he had them. Starting at the top of the list of contacts, he decided to make some calls.  
  
    “Alexandra.... hmm...” Gob had no idea who this girl was, but he must have slept with her if her name was in his phone.  Raising the phone to his ear, he heard the phone ringing, and finally someone answered it.  
  
    “Hello?”  
  
    “Hi. Alex....andria?” Gob struggled to remember the name.  
  
    “Is this a marketing call? I’m on the do-not-call list.”  
      
    “No, no. It’s Gob. Gob Bluth. Obviously.”  
  
    “Not ringing a bell.”  
  
    Gob was slightly offended, despite the fact that her name also did not ring a bell. With false enthusiasm, he exclaimed, “We totally fucked. You might remember me by my huge c....”  
  
    He heard a click, and soon a dial-tone sounded in his ear. “Well obviously we never actually fucked, or else she would have remembered me,” he told himself, scrolling to the next name on the list. This was easy - he had no feelings for her so the rejection didn’t hurt at all. Just the way all sexual relations should work.  
  
    Gob continued down the list, calling names, all of which seemed unfamiliar.    
  
    “Avery! ..... yes this is Gob....” Gob pulled the phone away from his ear, as the person on the other line began screaming incoherently at him. “Oh good! You remember me! Do you want to meet u- ...” The click and dial-tone was becoming very familiar.  
  
    Gob tried again. “Is this Beth? Oh Beth, remember when I gave you all kinds of orgasms! ..... oh. You like women now? Same!” He didn’t. “So it’s a date? Let’s meet at the...” There it was again. A click and a tone.  
  
    He decided to try one more random number from the beginning of the list, a girl named Blyth. He wasn’t sure he’d met a Blyth before, so he figured he must have met her over Spring Break and she’d added her number to his phone.  
  
    “Blyth! It’s Gob Bluth - the magician! Do you still have low self-esteem? ..... let’s meet up for some sex, but let’s not get married because Blyth Blu-...” And again. Was he really this out of practice? Regardless, no feelings were involved, and he felt that he was doing quite well at moving on from Tony. He’d already propositioned 4 women and it hadn’t even been 24 hours yet. It didn’t matter that nothing had happened, although he should probably fuck a woman soon just to get all that manly sex out of his system.  
  
    Deciding that his strategy wasn’t working particularly well, Gob decided to look for a name that he knew he knew. This took a lot of scrolling through the contacts, many of whom were exceptionally objectionable (Edna Whitehead? Even Gob couldn’t go there again) but finally he found one - Kitty Sanchez. He’d slept with Kitty more than once, always for business purposes of course, and he was confident that he could do it again. After all, she was Kitty, and he was Gob. Why wouldn’t she sleep with him again? It’s not like she was in high demand.  
  
    Dialing the number, Gob prepared to croon into the phone, sure that he had this bee in the hive.  
  
    “Hello, Kitty speaking. How can I help you?”  
  
    “Kitty...” Gob purred. It was time to return to his old life.  
      
    “What is it, Gob?” Kitty responded, clearly recognizing his voice. It was hard to miss. “I’m in high demand here so I only have a moment.”  
  
    “Well Kitty....” Gob paused, for dramatic effect. “I have a proposition for you.” The proposition was sex. “Let’s meet up at The Little Coffee Shop at 3?” It was 2:30 now.  
  
    Kitty had no desire to meet with Gob, but having recently derived a great deal of pleasure from crushing members of the Bluth family, she figured that she could find some sort of enjoyment from crushing Gob as well. “Fine,” she sighed. “See you then.”  
  
    Gob didn’t bother to clean himself up before going to see Kitty. He figured that she’d have nothing better to do than sleep with him, and he probably looked _okay_ anyway.  
  
    Arriving at The Little Coffee Shop, a bit later, Gob saw Kitty had already arrived and had sat down at a table, looking impatient. Her usually unruly hair was smoothed and dyed, she was wearing new glasses, and it appeared that someone had fixed her botched boob job, both making the breasts symmetrical and even larger than before. Gob crinkled his nose and muttered to himself, “Ugh, she’s a hot mess.” He knew it would be a sacrifice to sleep with her, but it was something that he needed to do to push away those disgusting feelings.  
  
    “Kitty!” he spoke with feigned enthusiasm, his eyes showing his true feelings. “It’s so good to see you!” It wasn’t.  
  
    “Hi Gob,” she replied, cooly glancing over at him. Although she’d once had a crush on him, after sleeping with him several times this had gone away. He was nothing like his father, and not nearly as manly. “You said you had a proposition?”      Gob had forgotten that he’d told her he had a proposition for her, yet managed to play it cool.“Yeah. Do you want to have sex?”  
  
    Probably not cool enough. Kitty looked at him. “Gob,” she said condescendingly, “I have high self-esteem now. I’m not the girl you knew before.”  
  
    “Exactly!” Gob replied, hoping that that would somehow convince her.  
  
    Kitty was unconvinced, but she knew that if she slept with Gob she’d have a better chance of somehow crushing him. She could barter some sort of deal with him, get him to sign away his life rights, or simply to completely break his spirits. “Fine,” she said, “My office is around the corner. Let’s go.”  
  
    As Kitty led Gob to her office, he was severely underwhelmed, and not aroused in the slightest. As she shut the door behind him, he cringed in disgust. “Hair up,” he suggested. It smoothly went up, highlighting her averagely attractive face. “Ugh,” he sighed. “Glasses off?” Kitty had had some work done on her eyes, and they no longer went cross-eyed; she had also learned to apply her make-up well so that her best features stood out. “Ugh,” Gob sighed, and Kitty rolled her eyes, wondering why she had agreed to this, when clearly he didn’t want to have sex with her either.  
  
    He had to do this. Gob leaned in to try to kiss her, and suggested again, “Hair down, glasses off?” None of this was satisfactory. “Hair up. No no... glasses on?” Nothing had been this difficult with Tony. With Tony there had only been one change in appearances.  
  
   _As he sat anxiously on the bed, wearing only his Tony mask and his very short bathrobe, he knew that things were about to change. Although the room was dark, when Tony entered, somehow he knew that it was him and not Ann. “Tony,” he whispered, not really asking, just stating the fact._  
  
 _“Gob.”_  
  
 _There was a moment of silence._  


 _“I’m kind of glad it’s you. I didn’t really want to sleep with Ann.”_  
  
 _“Same!”_  
  
 _Tony sat beside Gob, and within a moment, they were suddenly intertwined. Their faces mashed together, silicon on silicon, and after a moment of struggling, they stopped._  
  
 _“Masks off?”_  
  
 _“Masks off.”_  
  
 _Suddenly, things were perfect. There was no fiddling, no indecisiveness. Just perfection._  
  
    As Gob thrust into Kitty, he let out a low moan. “Tony...”  
  
    “What?” Kitty broke the spell, with an accusing tone.  
      
    “I said totally awesome.”  
      
    “No you didn’t.”  
      
    “I was moaning, okay? It just trailed off. You didn’t hear me.”  
  
    “Right. Whatever Gob.”  
  
    “Come on!” They hadn’t finished, but Gob didn’t care. He wiggled his pants back on as Kitty looked on at him disapprovingly, which wasn’t difficult because he was quickly completely flaccid again, just looking at her face and body. He shuddered. “I have to go.”  
  
    “Well this is the last you’ll ever see of _these_.” Kitty squeezed her perfect silicon mounds together with her hands, and Gob couldn’t look away quick enough.  
  
    “Thank god,” he muttered as he walked out the door. How had Kitty gotten even less attractive than last time?  
  
    As he left the building, Gob pulled out his phone again. Obviously Kitty just wasn’t the right woman for him to have sex with. He’d be fine if he could just find another. Scrolling past her name on the list, he saw another name - Lindsay.  
  
    ‘Well, she’s not my sister,” he thought, ‘and she was coming on to me pretty hard when she found out we weren’t related.” She wasn’t.  
  
    Gob dialed the number anyway, and when Lindsay picked up, he decided to start out strong. “Hey sis. Wanna fuck?” In hindsight, that sounded pretty awful, yet it still didn’t disturb him nearly as much as sleeping with Kitty.  
  
    “Gob? What? No way.” Lindsay sounded disturbed. “Now, if you were Michael...”  
  
    This time it was Gob’s turn to hang up. Stupid Michael. This was all his fault anyway.  
  
    The next name to come up on his phone was Lucille Austero. ‘Well, she’s not my mother,’ he thought, despite the similarities in both age and name. She was also a woman who had slept with him multiple times, all for business of course. Obviously he’d never actually liked how close she lived to his mother, or the fact that he felt important dating someone who needed his help, or that he had to do silly things like read her the menu at the Yacht Club. She was never the proper type for him, but sometimes he liked to do things for other people, and a part of him considered sleeping with Lucille 2 to be almost charity work. Because of this attitude, he was surprised when she didn’t answer his call. Lucille 2, despite rallying for some sort of important position in the state, which Gob did not particularly understand, suffered from extreme vertigo and was therefore often confined to her apartment. Gob also had Lucille’s cellphone number, however to his dismay, she still did not answer.  
  
    Feeling like Lucille was one of the least objectionable options he could find on his phone, Gob decided to take the trip to Balboa Heights to her apartment, certain that he would be able to find her in due time. Knocking on her door, and hearing no response, Gob shrugged to himself, certain that she would not be avoiding him of all people. It was with this attitude that he left and returned to her door five times within the hour, alternating with stalking out the parking lot and looking everywhere for her. Surely she would show up. Surely she was not avoiding him. Surely. He kept waiting for her to open the door to him, much like Tony had the night when they had truly discovered their deep bond, and he had realized his true feelings. What a night that had been.  
  
   _“Let’s have normal sex on cinco!”_  
  
 _“Same!”_  
  
 _Gob was both nervous and excited by this decision, although he vehemently refused to admit the latter. After having drank so much water, and having admitted mutual feelings of some sort or another, Gob and Tony sat on the couch and just talked, for hours, just as they had discussed they would do. They had so much in common, and so much general excitement, that before they knew it, it was 2:30 in the morning, and both men realized they were very tired. Realizing he should probably go home, Gob got up to leave, noting to Tony that he should get some sleep. After hearing the obligatory “Same!” the two men looked at each other. It had been a lovely visit, though very confusing, and it just seemed right to hug each other goodbye, especially since it was sort of a date maybe?_  
  
 _Tony reached out his arms in embrace to Gob, and Gob, vaguely understanding how to hug, fell into the warm embrace, hugging a bit closer than most people would hug. He, of course, had no way of knowing this, but there was one thing he really did know - there was a sort of stiffness to the hug that was way more than just the mask he’d shoved down his pants._  
  
 _In that moment Gob silently hoped that he would be making many more trips to that apartment._  
  
    After the fifth trip to Lucille 2’s apartment door, Gob was considering checking out her office in town, until he leaned his ear against the door to guarantee that no sounds were coming from within. To his surprise, he heard the voice of several men, talking quite loudly, and he was unsure how he had missed this during his previous trips. Gob was quite offended that Lucille had allowed these multiple men into her apartment, yet was avoiding him, so he decided to use his training from his time as a Hot Cop.  
  
    “Police! Open up!” Gob called, banging on the door, and then ducking low in case of an unfortunate incident, as he had experienced once before. Within moments the door opened before him and he realized that his plan had not been properly thought through. He was not currently wearing his cop uniform, but the man who stood before him was. And this cop uniform was not hot.  
  
    “What the hell...” the officer muttered. “What are you doing here?”  
  
    “What are you doing here?” Gob wondered accusingly, offended that Lucille had invited them, but not him.  
  
    “Haven’t you heard about Lucille Austero’s disappearance?” The officer looked Gob up and down, as if his appearance would give away his motivation. Before Gob had the chance to respond, the officer’s walkie-talkie buzzed, and despite the crackling, Gob could just barely make out what was being said.  
  
    “Hey, there’s some guy out here that seems to be stalking Austero’s apartment. Keep an eye out for him. He might know something.”  
  
    “Oh I certainly will,” the officer noted, eyeing Gob suspiciously. Gob wondered who this mysterious person could be, as well as why Lucille 2 had disappeared. Now that he thought about it, he recalled vaguely that his mother had called him and told him of this event, but he was too distracted by the call he’d received moments later. That morning.... had it really been just hours before now that his life had seemingly changed? Had it really been the previous evening when he had made such a startling realization about himself and his feelings? It had been an exhausting 24 hours.  Gob had begun to retreat into darkness, when the officer’s voice broke his spell.  
  
    “What are you doing here? Seriously?”  
  
    Gob was here to hook-up with his old lover, to escape feelings for a man, to prove that he could return to his old life, that he didn’t need Tony to be happy. He also was there because he was too desperate to accept that there was anyone who wouldn’t want him, and he was too unstable to realize that he needed to give his potential heartbreak a chance to heal before moving on.  
  
    He could have said all that, but instead he just said, “I’m leaving,” and as his eyes darted around, he fled the premises. Normally he would have left a smoke bomb for dramatic effect, but his spirits were too broken. No one followed him - they had no right to take him into custody right then, but they certainly would be keeping an eye on him. Good thing they had security camera footage... and his business card which had fallen out of his pocket.  
  
    “Dear god,” the officer muttered, glancing at the card. “Another bloody Bluth. Why am I not surprised?”


	2. That One Little Hope

As Gob fled Balboa Towers, he wondered what to do now. He had tried so many people from his contact list, and none of them wanted to have sex with him. How on earth was he supposed to flee his feelings for Tony if he couldn’t fuck away his feelings like every other time? He knew it was too late now to take a forget-me-now - the feelings would stay with him no matter what. It was also, according to his watch, approximately the time when he and Tony would be meeting up for their sex date.

  
“Damnit,” he muttered, knowing that now he’d never get Tony off his mind. Right that moment Tony was probably anxiously waiting for Gob to call him back, wondering if this was the end. Right that moment Tony was probably showering in hope that they could have sex, even though he’d chosen to forget the night before. Right that moment, Tony was probably shaving all his body hair into perfect little Ws, hoping that Gob would caress them with his mouth...  
  
...This was ridiculous. He had to stop these feelings. He was in love with a man and that just wasn’t acceptable. Perhaps it was a blessing that Tony had forgotten, because if Tony had enjoyed the love they’d shared as much as he had, then some sort of stupid relationship might start. He definitely didn’t want to share a bed, eat breakfast together, kiss him sweetly and lovingly, on the forehead, while they held hands, in public, and announce to everyone that they were in love...while whispering sweet nothings... and making love, not just fucking....he definitely didn’t want that. No. Of course he didn’t. That would be crazy. That wasn’t Gob at all. Thinking about it definitely didn’t make his heart race and a stupid little grin creep onto his face. He definitely wasn’t grinning like a maniac while thinking about all this potential love with Tony. That would be sick and wrong.   
  
And really awesome.   
  
If Gob couldn’t fuck his feelings away, there had to be something else he could do. What else did people do to forget their feelings and lose their inhibitions besides sleep with people and use forget-me-nows? As Gob walked down the sidewalk, he smelled a very familiar acrid smell - alcohol. He realized the solution to his problem - he could drink his feelings away! And, perhaps, while he was at it, he could fuck them away as well, because there had never been a drunk girl that Gob couldn’t get with a little magic. He was lucky that he’d worn his trick - or, rather,  _illusion_ -  jacket to go see both Kitty and Lucille 2, because that meant that he had a few mice, doves, pennies, flints, lighter fluid, and even more up his sleeves. Literally.   
  
As Gob walked into the bar, he shuddered. “Why are all these women so ugly?” he muttered to himself. There were women with full lips, women with full hips, women with full breasts, and women who seemed pretty damn full of themselves, as well as some of the standard pretty types, but none of them caught Gob’s eye. Pushing past all the women at the bar, he made his way to the bartender and, holding out a $50 bill, asked, “Vodka. Or whisky. Or rum. Just give me something strong. And lots of it.” At this point he wouldn’t have minded if it was a combination of all three, so long as it helped him to escape his feelings. It had been a very long day, and he was ready to drink away all of his problems. If luck was with him, he’d wake up so hung over and so disgusting that all trace of his gay feelings would be gone, and he’d be back to normal.  
  
The bartender slipped him the drink, and kept the change. It seemed like this guy would be causing his $50 worth of problems.  
  
Sipping his drink, and smiling as the sharp taste of alcohol dulled his senses, he prepared himself to drink and fuck until nothing was left.  
  
Gob smiled at a first woman sweetly, even though he thought her face was far too pixie-like. “I have a dove in my pants,” he said seductively, gesturing below. She shrieked, and hurried away.    
  
Tony hadn’t shrieked and hurried away when he’d seen what was below Gob’s belt; however, he probably would have if Gob had said there was a dove there due to the unfortunate incident several years prior. Perhaps the girl had also had a bad experience with a dove. Gob couldn’t blame her.   
  
 Gob approached a second woman, her breasts large, and falling out of her shirt. Gob wondered if she’d be able to press her body against his as much as he’d like, because they’d be separating him from her abs. Did she even have abs? “I’d love to see your cherry,”  he said and gestured widely, showering several hundred pennies onto the ground around her and in between her cleavage.   
  
“I’m not a hooker,” she screeched, turning her back to Gob, and hustling away. Her skirt was rather short as well, and barely covering her curved ass, but Gob was much more preoccupied at the fact that he’d somehow used the wrong trick again. But it would be fine - the alcohol would help him to forget everything. Everything except possibly the way the Tony’s ass had felt. Gob shook this thought away. It needed to help him forget everything, especially the way Tony’s ass had felt as he’d caressed it the previous evening.    
  
Finally, Gob approached a third woman, with long blond hair, and smooth skin, perhaps a bit too smooth for Gob’s taste. He longed for the feel of wiry hair against his face. “You know what you do to me?” he asked with a cheeky grin. “You set my heart on  _fire_!!!” These words were accentuated by Gob squirting lighter fluid all over her slinky black dress. It was probably a good thing that he hadn’t actually cast a fire ball, because by now security was watching him very closely and this would have been the final straw. The girl ran away, but Gob didn’t care. Anyone who couldn’t take a little squirting certainly wasn’t in a place where they should be having sex with him. Tony hadn’t minded - in fact, it certainly seemed he had enjoyed it. And not just the lighter fluid.   
  
Gob’s drink was almost empty, so he bought another, and then another, and then another. These weren’t quite as strong, but once a certain level of drunkenness overtook him,the burn was no longer so pungent. As he sat on a barstool, in the dark corner of the bar, he continued to try to hit on every woman that passed, his lines getting weaker and weaker.  
  
“I’m so drunk you almost look attractive.” A look of fury crossed the faces of all women in the vicinity.   
  
“Have you ever wanted to fuck a really drunk man? I have.” This line caused fits of whispers and numerous eye rolls.   
  
“Do you want to see what’s buzzing in my pants?” This was a desperate attempt to find someone who shared his interests, as he had a small jar of bees in his pocket that he figured would appeal to someone. Unfortunately the woman to whom he directed it had to be dragged off by her friends before she chucked the majority of her $14 drink in his face, completely misunderstanding the comment.  
  
The alcohol wasn’t doing enough to dull his mind of  _feelings_. Tony kept creeping into his thoughts. Each face he saw morphed into Tony’s briefly before returning to a disappointing face of someone nearby. Each time someone stepped too close in the dark, he felt Tony’s hot breath on his neck, teasing him, making him so hot. But he was never there. Each time he was rejected, he saw Tony’s glowing face as he’d told him so innocently, “I have feelings for you.” None of these people had feelings for him. He was glad of this. Yet the real feelings he wanted to send away just weren’t going anywhere. He felt so pathetic, and useless, and so broken, and so drunk.   
  
Finally, Gob cried, in what he felt was a pleading scream but was in truth barely above a whisper, “Won’t anyone have sex with me? Please?”  
  
A voice emerged from the shadows. “Got 50 bucks?” The voice was husky, but unmistakably female. Gob nodded.   
  
“Come with me,” she said, and wordlessly Gob followed her out of the bar, into a dark alley behind the bar.  
  
“So are we just gonna do it?” Gob asked, the alcohol making him blunt and dulling his insecurities.  
  
She nodded, holding out her hand. Gob fumbled with his wallet for a moment before placing a bill in it. He wasn’t really sure if he’d just placed one bill, or two, or five, but at this point he’d be willing to pay $10,000 for ridding himself of feelings. Money wasn’t an issue, even though he was fairly broke. This was far more important.  
  
The prostitute tucked the money into a secret location, and then reached to take off her shirt. “No, please!” Gob protested. Realizing that he sounded foolish, he tried again. “I mean.... strip me first.”   
  
“Whatever you want. You’re paying.” She sounded bored. Reaching over, she unbuckled his pants.   
  
_Tony never had to unbuckle his pants. Gob had been wearing a bathrobe. So much more accessible. Pants were so cumbersome. For a moment Gob wished he was wearing his stripper pants so he could whip them right off._  
  
Gob’s pants slid around his ankles, and as his final dove flew into the distance, he could feel the prostitute drop to her knees. The alcohol was beginning to make him drowsy, and it was hitting him harder and harder. It must have been two a.m., but as the lady of the night slid down to his still flaccid penis, his mind started to wander. Everything was coming back to him, in little pieces, little moments playing in his head.   
  
_“Ohhh Tony,” Gob moaned, as Tony’s hands caressed the inside of his thighs..._  
  
 _Tony’s tongue thrust its way into his mouth, and he responded willingly, enthusiastically. Something was stirring within him and it all felt so good...._  
  
 _Tony’s warm breath swept across him as he kissed down his neck, and continued lower and lower, pausing at each nipple for a moment to fully savor them..._  
  
 _Oh, he clearly knew what he was doing.  Oh, this was so good...._  
  
 _Oh, Tony..._  
  
 _Gob snuggled his body against Tony’s. What had he just done? He wasn’t sure. But he knew that he’d love every moment of it._  
  
Oh no. This wasn’t working. With every touch, every stroke, Gob’s drunken mind was filled with Tony. No longer was he in a darkened alley behind a bar, being touched by a cheap hooker - he was back in the bedroom of the model home, filled with overwhelming feelings. He didn’t want a hooker touching him. He didn’t want any woman touching him. But his thoughts of Tony were so strong, and his mind was so confused and drunk that he moaned in pleasure, throwing his head back, feeling a bodily relief that was incredible, but that did nothing to relieve the huge weight which still sat upon his mind. A weight aptly named “Tony.”  
  
“You sure talk about Tony a lot,” the hooker slurred, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. “You know, drunken minds speak sober thoughts.” She was pretty drunk too, so her opinion perhaps wasn’t the most valid. “You know what this means, right?”  
  
Gob had collapsed to the ground, head spinning, feeling heavy and nauseated, and  with a bad feeling that he knew exactly what the stripper had to say to him.   
  
As everything began to fade to black, she sneered,  “You’re gay, Gob,” her face morphing from his mother’s, his father’s, then to Michael’s, to Tobias’ and Lindsay’s,  and finally to Tony’s. “You’re  _so_  gay.”  
  
\-----------------  
Gob awoke in the alley several hours later, feeling hung over and miserable. He didn’t remember much from the night before, which was probably a blessing, but one thing haunted him - “You’re gay, Gob. You’re _so_ gay.” Who had been talking to him? There were so many faces, so many mixed images in his mind. None of them were good. All of them made him feel heavy and sick, and added to his pounding headache.  
  
It wasn’t quite light out yet. The sun was just beginning to rise, and as Gob picked himself up and slid his pants up his filthy legs, he realized that every bone in his body ached. He also looked an utter mess; his usually well-tailored suit was ripped and torn, there was dirt smeared on his cheek and the pattern of asphalt was creased into his face. In addition, his wallet was all but empty, holding just enough cash for a short cab ride back to the model home. As he emerged from the alley, no taxis were in sight, however, so with heavy feet, he trudged down the street, feeling ashamed for one of the first times in his forty-some years. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but it didn’t really matter because there was nowhere in the world he wanted to be at that moment, as long as it wasn’t in that alley of shame.   
  
Sometimes when you’re about to give up, you grasp on to one little thing, praying that it will save you and pull you from the pit you’ve found yourself in. Sometimes, step by step, as you lift one foot in front of another, all your hope is put in one last object, one last situation, one last person. And, when you try your hardest, and you don’t succeed, and suddenly your final life-line has failed you, your heart feels as heavy as a block of lead. For Gob, drinking and sleeping with a woman were his teeny tiny bits of hope to which he had clung, hoping to escape these feelings which he so hated. But here he was, hungover, and shamed, and all he wanted was to call Tony and tell him everything. He hoped that Tony had not had a similar night, that this was not a way they were the same, because he wouldn’t wish this on anyone. But, if he called Tony, then that would just prove yet again that his feelings were real. He was afraid that in the past 48 hours that had been proven far too many times. He was in love with a man, and nothing was going to stop that.   
  
Somehow he kept walking, his feet still moving, not knowing where they were going, just knowing that they had to go somewhere. He knew that wherever they took him would never be good enough, because now he was in too deep - he would never escape. As the sun peeked over the treetops which swayed slightly in the gentle breeze, a building up ahead was illuminated. Gob blinked as the bright lights hit his aching eyes, but then he saw it - a new lifeline, a new final hope. A steeple was shining bright on the local church, and Gob, previously the ‘Christian Magician,’ felt compelled to pray.  
  
“Goad,” he started, pleading in his heart. “Please find me a way to stop these feelings. I hate them.  _And it’s too damn bright out. Stop that too?_ ”  
  
As if on cue, the wind blew a flyer to his feet, and he picked it up.  
  
‘Homosexuals Anonymous,’ it read, in big bold font. ‘Feeling gay? Want to shove down those feelings and push them far away? Maybe even eliminate them for good? Homosexuals Anonymous (HA) is a fellowship of men who like men and women who like women who share their experiences and shame with each other, that they may solve their common problem and help others to recover from homosexuality. The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop unhealthy feelings.’ 

“ _Perfect_ ,” Gob murmured, stuffing the flyer in his pocket. He’d found the answer to his problems.  
  
But the light kept getting brighter.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are worried about my treatment of an organization that is trying to "cure" or stop homosexuality, fear not - just look at the acronym for the organization and you'll see that it is meant to be ridiculous.


	3. Chapter 3

    Upon returning to the model home, Gob took a long shower, trying to clean himself from his hang-over and his shame. Gob had both paid for sex and been paid for sex in the past, but somehow the entire escapades of the night before were worse than anything he remembered, even though they too were barely in his memory. All he really remembered was the darkness, the sickness, and the utter loss of hope that he’d felt, like he would never pick himself up from where he’d fallen ever again. No shower could ever wash him clean from the dark spot which was descending upon his heart.  
  
    Eventually Gob looked closer at the flyer he’d stuffed in his pocket. “I’m gay,” he said, to no one in particular. “I have gay feelings for a man.” This flyer was perfect for him. Meetings were Tuesdays and Thursdays at 10am, and Saturdays at 6pm. As most horrible mornings usually were, it was currently Monday, so Gob decided that he would attend the Tuesday meeting, and he hoped it would cure him of his gayness. Feeling miserable, and not so “gay” in the happy sense, Gob spent the rest of the day trying to sleep off his hangover, eating candy beans, and watching old videos: Girls with Low Self-Esteem, Boyfights, and just a little bit of Straight Bait.  
  
    In this moment, Gob needed a friend. Gob had never had many friends - he’d had people to whom he’d spoken, and people who’d spoken to him, but Tony was the only person with whom he’d ever properly conversed. He never felt like he could relate to other people, and although he’d tried hard to win the love of his brother Michael, his mother, and even his brother-in-law, he just wasn’t very good at making friends. He was, however, sort of okay at making a puppet’s mouth move and making himself feel like he had someone who cared about him.  
  
    Getting Franklin down from the attic wasn’t an easy task, but once Gob had him, he gave him a big, one armed hug, his other arm quite obviously inside the puppet.  
  
    “Franklin - my brother!” he exclaimed.  
  
    “Gob, you crazy fucker,” Franklin sort of replied.  
  
    Finishing the hug, Gob sat Franklin on his knee, and said to him in a serious voice, “Franklin, I need to talk to you about something.”  
  
    “Well Gob,” Franklin replied, “It ain’t easy being black.”  
  
    “You’re right Franklin,” Gob replied, frowning a little. “You know what else isn’t easy?”  
  
    “You’re one of those damned homosexuals, aren’t you Gob?”  
  
    Despite the fact that Gob was having a conversation with his own hand, for some reason this struck a chord, and he began to cry. “Franklin, it’s Tony, and I, I just...I... I ha...ha..have feelings...”  
  
    Gob spoke to Franklin for the next few hours, arguing, laughing, crying, and mostly spilling out all his problems and cares. For some reason it was comforting to discuss his feelings, even when Franklin disagreed with him, and by the end of the night he was feeling good enough that he wanted to write a song with Franklin about his life-changing experiences. Before he could do so, however, he fell asleep on the couch, snuggling his puppet and only friend against his tired body.  
  
    The next morning, Gob awoke screaming as he noticed a body resting next to his. He had been dreaming all night of Tony, dreams of making love, and then finding himself lost in an alley, with a booming voice around him screaming, “You’re gay, _so_ gay,” and Tony ignoring every phone call he’d made. It had been a night of nightmares, and in a panicked frenzy he hurled Franklin across the room, where he crashed into the wall, making a dent despite. “Fucking feelings!” he swore as he ran to pick up his only friend from the floor of the model home, “and shoddy workmanship...” As he grumbled, his eyes caught sight of the flyer for the meeting he was supposed to attend that morning, and, noting the time, he threw on a nice shirt and some tight white pants, hurried out the door, making it to the meeting at the church just as it was starting.  
  
    As Gob took a seat near the front of the room, a young man who looked somewhat like his son was taking the stand. “Hi, I’m Nick, and I’m a homosexual,” he said, looking somewhat uncomfortable.  
      
    “Hi Nick,” responded the small group of women and brightly dressed men.  
  
    “I haven’t had gay sex or masturbated to the thought of a man in 5 days,” he continued proudly. The group applauded politely.  
  
    Gob hadn’t been nearly that successful.  
  
    More and more people took the stand. Gob found none of them attractive, and wondered why they were at Homosexual’s Anonymous, because he doubted anyone would have sex with any of them. This was a bit of a double standard because Gob had certainly had sex with people significantly less attractive, but all were under the influences of either a substance or money.  
  
    A middle aged man took the stand. “I kissed a girl.... and I sort of enjoyed it.” The room filled with applause.  
  
    A young gentleman presented next. “Men could be further from my mind!” He didn’t realize that he had misspoken, but the group still clapped politely.  
  
    A petite, feminine woman took the stand. “I broke it off with my girlfriend. No more lesbian sex for me!” Nobody clapped, except for Gob, who was trying to be extra supportive of everyone.  
  
    This continued on for a while until a last man stepped up, and taking a deep breath finally announced, “I haven’t had any gay feelings whatsoever for over three months. It’s been really hard but.... _god-fucking-damnit_.” He had caught sight of Gob, sitting nearby, and tears filled his eyes. “The devil is tempting me!” he cried, glaring at Gob, and then tearing his face away. “Get him out of here! Get him out!” An attendant tried to pat the man on the back to calm him, but he recoiled in fear of the touch.  
  
    “No touching!” crowed a gowned man quickly, but it was too late. The man at the stand ran screaming out of the building, leaving Gob and the entire group in shock and awe.  
  
    The room was silent for a moment, but then the gowned man stepped up to speak. He looked vaguely familiar to Gob. “Well, uh.... good work everyone. Looks like we’re working hard to leave our sinful ways, but it’s always easy to fall back into temptation. Here at HA we know that it’s a long recovery process, but everyone can put their homosexual feelings in a box and get rid of them if they choose to.” He pauses for a moment, at a loss of what to say, then he looks directly at Gob. “Any newcomers, please prepare to speak at the next meeting you come to. We are a very interactive group and encourage you to share your feelings...” Gob cringed. “...and successes and losses. Welcome to you here, and we hope we can be a part of your journey. See you next time!”   
    And with that, the group was dismissed. Many of the participants began to mingle awkwardly, but Gob was feeling quite stressed, and uncertain that he’d return. He couldn’t possibly be as desperate as this group of people. And he certainly didn’t want to share his feelings.  
  
    As Gob hastily rushed down the steps of  the church, he ran into a familiar face. Literally. The two tumbled down the stairs, and crashed on the pavement below. As they got up, Gob worrying about staining his white pants with dirt, he stumbled for words, looking at the face.  
  
    “Oh...you...” It was her. The one who had played the successful trick, not illusion, that had led to Gob and Tony sleeping together. “How are you...you...?”  
      
    “Gob,” Ann said, looking at him with disbelieving eyes. “We were engaged. You do know my name, don’t you?”  
  
    “Of course I....don’t...” Gob muttered the last word.  
  
    “Well, now I don’t feel so bad about trying to get revenge on you and Tony,” she stated, obviously referring to the Saturday night just past.  
  
    “Actually,” Gob grinned, “Neither Tony nor I are gay, and we were just trying to get revenge on you! Who feels silly now?” This was a blatant lie, and both Gob and Ann knew it.  
  
    “Then why are you leaving a H.A. meeting?” Ann asked knowingly.  
  
    “Wo-wo-would the guy in the clean white pants go to a H.A. meeting?” Gob stammered, looking down and noticing a dirt stain on his pants and swearing to himself.  
  
    “Gob, it’s okay. I knew you never really cared for me. But don’t worry - Tony’s doing fine now. I’ve been talking with him and he’s actually starting to give me child support money! And, of course, he remembers nothing of Saturday night.” She pauses, and looks Gob right in the eyes. “Nothing.”  
  
    “What night?” Gob’s eyes gave away his inner turmoil, despite his innocent words.  
         Ann ignored him. “I’m just so happy that my little boy can finally live in a house where he can wake up to his father cooking him some eggs.”  
  
    “I thought he already had enough eggs.” Gob mumbled.  
  
    “Tony makes delicious eggs,” Ann continued. “Monday morning when he brought them to me in bed, I was just so happy.”  
  
    Gob felt like he was going to explode. Monday morning he’d awoken in an alley, and Tony was supposed to be longing for him. Filled with despair, he couldn’t help but ask angrily, “Why are you trying to ruin our life?” It came out as a whisper.  
  
    “Bye Gob...” Ann waved in her irritating little way, climbing the stairs to the church and into the building, as Gob continued to sputter.  
      
    “I mean his life... my life... our.... _COME ON!_ ”  
  
  
\----  
  
    Gob was aghast as he returned home. He’d tried for so many years to keep a strong face in spite of the struggles he’d gone through, but over the past few months his sureness had failed more and more often. Finally he was past his breaking point. He’d made love to a man several nights before, and several women since, yet sexually he felt repressed. He’d tried to repress his feelings and thought he was finally doing okay, but now, here he was, sitting on the model home couch, flipping through an old family photo album, wondering why the hell things had gone so wrong.  
  
    It seemed a wonder that the Bluths even had photo albums, but back in the earliest days of their family things hadn’t been so bad. Sure there was still deceit and a disturbing amount of emotional abuse, but back around the time when Buster was just a baby, Gob remembered a fleeting moment of family happiness. Business had been going well, Lucille was on a new batch of post-partum anti-depressants, and the precursor to Teamocil was new on the market and being consumed by George Sr as well as possibly snuck into the children’s milk and cereal. There was a picture of the family at the beach, Lucille shielding herself from the sun with an umbrella, Buster wrapped in a little blanket. Lindsay’s swimsuit was a little revealing, but that was okay - she was only young, and there wasn’t really much to hide anyway. George Sr. had his arm wrapped around his wife, although his eyes seemed tuned elsewhere, perhaps at a scantily dressed harlot. And then there was Gob and Michael. It seemed that they had built a sandcastle together, and they were laughing together, getting along like brothers should, wearing matching purple bathing suits.  
  
    Looking closer, however, Gob frowned. There was another picture of Michael somewhere else on the same page of the album, and it was clear that his bathing suit was green. No fault of light could change purple to green, unless it was an _illusion_. No, there was another picture of Gob and Michael, and Gob was clearly pulling Michael’s hair, and there were the bathing suits again. One purple, one green. So who was the little boy who had somehow slipped into the family picture?  
  
    Gob lacked the attention span to focus on this any longer, so he continued to go through the album. His childhood memories really were a blur, probably due to the fact that his parents were drugging him and his siblings. He did remember though that things hadn’t always been so bad and tumultuous, and this showed in a picture he found of himself  on the fourth page of the book. There he was, wearing a cute little shirt and tie, no older than seven years old, and smiling at the camera with a grin missing several teeth. His eyes looked lively, not dull and tired like they looked now. The thing that startled Gob most about this picture was, however, the fact that the camera was focussed on him and only him. For once he’d gotten one of his parents’ full attention, while his brothers played in the background. For once, he’d gotten the attention he’d deserved. Perhaps an unsatisfied desire for people to watch him was a cause of his ridiculous openings to his magic acts.  
  
    Gob turned the page, eager to see more pictures, but the next page was empty. Quickly, he flipped through the remaining pages of the book, only to find that every other page was empty. Four children, and over forty years of life had resulted in four meager pages of family pictures. On the spine of the album, the advertisement read “holds over 200 pictures”, but no one had ever bothered to fill them. Gob wished that the family had memories to put in the album, memories worth preserving, but there weren’t nearly enough. Clearly no one in his family had ever really cared to hold onto their memories, so it was only natural that he’d grown up the same way. Perhaps some memories just weren’t worth keeping.  
  
    It was barely noon, but Gob felt low enough that he wouldn’t have minded sleeping the rest of the day away.


	4. Chapter 4

    It was 6pm on Wednesday evening, and Gob had barely moved from the couch of the model home. In fact, he likely would have continued to stay there for an indefinite amount of time had his phone not rung with a familiar sound.  
  
  _Why don’t you getaway Getaway, stay away Getaway..._  
  
    “Hello?”  
  
    “Gob. It’s your mother calling.” She didn’t have to explain herself; Gob would have known her voice anywhere.   
  
    “Hi Mom,” he responded. At one time he would have been excited that his mother had taken the time out of her day to call him, but her tone of voice, and past history of calls had made him weary.  
  
    “You haven’t messed up the Bluth Company yet, have you?” This was a bit of a ridiculous question, because the Bluth Company was clearly already in shambles.  
  
    “Of course not!” replied Gob honestly, having completely forgotten about the fact that he was now the representative, and therefore having done nothing to bring the company down. “As if I’d ever do a thing like that. The company is in great, great, able hands.”  
  
    “Well I’m not sure of that,” Lucille replied, and Gob could envision the sour look on her face. “You were the only option left, and I figured you would do.”  
  
    “I won’t let you down!” Gob declared, excited to do something to help the family, and to prove his worth.  
  
    “Right. And remember, no scandals. The last thing we need right now is another scandal. Busty’s already been in and out of questioning many times, and security tapes can be so incriminating, and unless he can prove he didn’t kill Lucille 2 they might put him in prison.”   
      
    Gob remembered prison. It had been a huge mistake.   
      
    “No scandals,” he replied with a big smile that hid his true feelings. “You can count on me.”  
  
    Of course, she couldn’t count on him. The last six years of Gob’s life had been spent utterly addicted to drugs and sex, and now he was somehow in a bigger mess than he’d ever been in before. In fact, Gob had never been particularly reliable, likely because no one had ever truly believed that he was capable of success. As Gob hung up his phone, he felt himself retreating deeper and deeper into the darkness, not even having the energy to mess up the company with his wild schemes. Darkness had been a sort of friend of his for years, and it was familiar, yet lately it had been finding him more and more often. And in the darkness, Gob fell into a deep sleep.  
  
     _Gob walked along the cobblestone path. This place was unfamiliar, and he had no idea how he’d gotten there, or where he was going. His path was lit by a single streetlight, and ahead, there was only darkness. Hiding in the shadows he saw a form, and he cried out to it, only finding that no sounds escaped his lips. As he watched in dismay, the vision creeped further still and the shadow turned, and he saw that it was Tony, only he was walking hand in hand with another man. He tried again and again to cry out but his words fell on deaf ears, and despite the silence they echoed around him in his head._  
  
 _“Tony, noo!” his brain screamed, but Tony continued to walk away from him, into the darkness. Gob tried to follow him, but his feet became planted in the ground and he could not move them except to pivot. To his right he saw another man, and although he could only see him from the back, he would know that spiky hair anywhere. “Tony?” he mouthed, still emitting no sound. “Tony?!” he cried desperately, the words still falling into silence. He needed to be heard. No one ever heard him._  
  
 _As the second Tony walked away, Gob could sense that he was not alone, and craning his head forward he saw that a crowd of people were walking towards him, each person holding hands with another. There were thousands of them, coming from all directions, and one man in every pairing sported the cute little pink ‘w’ beard, and the impish face that he couldn’t shake from his mind. The single street light set their faces alit with an eerie sort of glow. The figures marched towards him at an alarming rate, but their heels pounded soundlessly against the smooth rocks of the cobblestone path. Although they made no noise, Gob knew that they had no intentions to stop for him. The figures told him that he was in the way, even though no words escaped their lips._  
  
 _Still frozen in his path, as the hordes of people approached him, Gob began to worry. Would they trample him? Would they crush him? He could see faces now - people he knew. A Tony holding hands with Ann, a Tony holding hands with a Michael, a Buster, a Lindsay, a Sally Sitwell, a Lucille 2, a Kitty... the faces were too numerous and they approached far too quickly. They began to blur in his mind. No one tried to reach him, and no one tried to explain to him how to escape. He just had to watch and wait as he tried to cry out, tried to beg, and found himself continuously mute._  
  
 _When the crowds were upon him, he was pushed to the ground, and trampled upon. They crushed him, person after person treading over him as if he were never there. It was so dark. He was used to it._  
  
 _As the people left, and Gob lay crumpled on the ground, he looked in the sky, and saw words written in the stars, but before he could make out the message, everything faded to black._  
  
    Gob awoke with a start. Never before had anything penetrated his darkness, but it appeared that thoughts of Tony somehow could. Many times before he had retreated to a place of black and emptiness, but never before had it been broken by thoughts of someone else. It was all those damned feelings! Speaking of feelings, the clock on the wall said it was 9am, and surprisingly his iPhone confirmed it. The phone also confirmed the fact that it was Thursday,  a fact which in his current mental state he couldn’t have said with full certainty. Gob remembered that he had a meeting to go to, where he could crush his obnoxious sentiments to do with Tony.   
  
    After a quick washing up in the bathroom, Gob found himself walking outside on his way to the meeting. When he had nearly reached the Church of  the Holy Eternal Rapture, he could have sworn he saw a familiar figure in his peripherals, but when he turned his head, the figure was gone. Tony couldn’t be following him, not here, not now. Not ever. As he shook off the feeling that he was somehow being watched, he hurried into a seat at H.A., slightly farther back this time so as not to disturb anyone again. He doubted that anyone would find his appearance too much today, however, because he truly was not looking his best. As the meeting began, Gob realized that he would need to formulate what to say to explain himself, and also that he needed to make up a fake name, because his mother had specifically said no scandals, and despite the supposed confidentiality policy of the meetings, Gob didn’t trust the people around him completely.  
  
    It was with great nerves and hesitation that Gob took the stand. “Hi,” he said, looking at the small group in front of him. He recognized many faces from last session, some men, some women, and he swallowed nervously. “I’m Franklin.” It was not the strongest name choice that Gob could have formulated, but it worked, and Gob felt a strange sense of pride as the group solemnly responded, “Hi Franklin.” Getting energy from the support, Gob continued on. “I’m a.... a....a...a... magician?” What was he supposed to say again? Thankfully he’d remembered to pack a dove in his pants, and he somehow successfully released it into the group. The dove flew several circles around the room before crashing into the large stained glass window and sliding to the floor with a devastating plop.  
  
    An attendant stood near Gob, and he cued him gently, “And, why are you here at Homosexual’s Anonymous?”  
  
    Gob tried to play it cool. “Well,” he said. “I might have feelings for a man.” The group nodded, the men in the group having felt the same, and the women wishing they could relate. “I’ve never really had feelings for anyone before, and they kind of suck. Your poster said that you could help me stop my feelings, so...here I am.” Gob was surprised at how intelligent he sounded, and he almost ruined the illusion of sanity with another comment, but managed to restrain himself and return to his seat, smiling at the scattered applause around him. No feelings meant no scandals, right? He could do his family proud. Once he could stop loving Tony and figure out all this important stuff about himself, maybe then he could run the Bluth Company. Maybe then he could show Mikey that he deserved to be the heir of the Bluth family. And, maybe, just maybe, he could finally be a good father to Steve Holt. He could turn things around.  
  
    As more people from the group shared their stories, Gob didn’t shout out a single rude comment, or give any exasperated looks. He just smiled, nodded sympathetically, and clapped when appropriate. When the father stood up to give the closing speech to end the meeting, Gob didn’t bolt from the building, instead staying to mingle with others. Most of the men seemed to avoid Gob, but one woman came to him, hand outstretched.  
  
    “Hi, Franklin,” she smiled. “My name is Stacy.”  
  
    “Hi Stacy,” he replied, eager to make a friend. “So you’re a lesbian?” He was still pretty blunt, and not entirely certain on social protocols.  
  
    “I guess.” She blushed.   
  
    “Do you like it?”  
  
    “Well, I guess if I did I wouldn’t be here. I’d rather want to make love to a man.”  
  
    “Same!” Gob was responding to the first part of her reply, but his answer was slightly delayed, although this did not make it any less true. “Lesbians are pretty hot though.” This very generalized statement was probably not the kind of idea that really should have come out at a meeting as such, but again, Gob’s social protocols were seriously lacking.   
      
    “Oh,” Stacy replied, looking at the floor.   
      
    Gob, unable to read Stacy’s body language and hesitance, continued. “Like, when two chicks make-out, that’s pretty hot. I can get behind that. In fact... I bet I could have sex with a lesbian, cause that would be hot. Maybe that would cure my feelings for T....Tobias. Yeah. Him.” He had no idea why he said Tobias’ name instead of making up another name. It was probably because it was a name beginning with T which he strongly associated with homosexuality.  
  
    “Are you saying you want to have sex with me?”  
  
    “....Maybe?” He didn’t. Not really. But it sounded like it might possibly work, so he decided to give it a try. If a lesbian and a gay man had sex, that would still be straight sex, right? And if he enjoyed straight sex, that would mean he was over Tony...right? “Sure. Let’s do it.”   
    “I guess gay guys having sex is kind of hot too, so maybe it will work...”  
  
    It didn’t.   
  
    Gob followed Stacy to her place soon after, and never in his life had he had such bad sex. She played with his nipples far too much, muttering about how his pecs were too small, and completely ignored his dick, wanting nothing to do with it. Tony had known exactly how to touch his body, and it seemed as though Stacy was ignoring every single spot that he had ravished. And, it turned out that just because Gob found girls kissing girls attractive, he didn’t automatically find a girl who liked to kiss girls attractive. Stacy didn’t really seem to be enjoying it either, so they both awkwardly moaned unconvincingly a bit and considered that a finish.   
  
    “That was...nice?” Gob tried, as he uncomfortably put his pants back on.  
  
    “Not really,” Stacy replied, and Gob had to agree.  
  
    “Yeah. Not really.”  
      
    “But thanks for trying?”  
  
    “Yeah. Thanks.”  
  
  
    The awkward sex session had last much longer than it should have, and it was almost 1pm. Gob was discouraged with his failed sex attempt, but recalled that his mother had called him that morning regarding the Bluth Company and his role, and suddenly he felt a fixation on making his family proud. He dropped by the office, joked with the new young male receptionist, magically flung some pennies at the tired-looking workers ( _“Love me, slaves!”_ ), and made some photocopies of his own face to hang as decorative art with the help of the new young male receptionist who reassured him that they would be well enjoyed. He also made a phone call to the local spa store, and ordered a hot tub for the break-room, not knowing the mistake his father had made years previously. He figured the hot tub would encourage love and relaxation in the office, which would improve work quality. The new young male receptionist helped make the decision; he was very keen on the love in the office part. Gob agreed.  
  
    Gob also noticed that there were several empty desks around the office. When he asked what had happened to the workers who had filled them, he was told that since the arrest of multiple members of the Bluth family morale had dropped and people were hesitant to work for the company any longer. Gob was thrilled - this meant there was some money left that would normally go to workers, that he could use for whatever he wanted. Forgetting the fact that he’d already purchased a hot tub, he decided to plan a party for the workers to boost morale and make them love him. He could invite the hot cops and everything, and he could do some office magic. Everyone loved magicians. It would be great. Mikey never would have thought to do such an awesome thing! He was clearly the best person to run the Bluth Company ever! He was so silly to have doubted his abilities. He was Gob, he was a magician! He didn’t need to have sex, he could just run a company like a real professional, and a true heir in the family!  
      
    Feeling quite accomplished, and as if he had finally solved all his problems, Gob began to leave the office, having put in an impressive 20 minutes of work, only to be stopped by the new young male receptionist.   
  
    “Mr. Bluth?”  
  
    “You can call me Gob. Or... Gob the great and magical!”  Gob had just created this name, and decided that he liked it.  
  
    “Well uh, Gob...the great and magical... I have tickets to a show tonight! Would you like to go with me?”  
  
    Gob had never been asked to hang-out with a Bluth employee before, and this excited him. “Come on!” Unlike his usual expression, this one was quite joyful. “Let’s do it...of course, friend!” Friend, whose name he did not yet know. That was normal in a friendship, right?   
  
    The handsome young man agreed to pick Gob up at the model home at 8pm that evening, and Gob returned home, as though walking on a cloud. He’d spoken honestly at a meeting, tried to fuck a lesbian, done great things for the company for which he was now CEO, and possibly even made a friend. Who needed feelings now? Who needed Tony?   
  
    Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow. As the first street-light of the evening turned on above his head, he kept on walking, lips pressed tightly shut in the silence.


	5. Chapter 5

Gob was still flying high as he returned to the model home. His mood and overall affect could typically change very rapidly under certain conditions, and it appeared that being productive at work and making his family proud was one thing that could completely turn his day around. In fact, in his state of joy, he decided to call his brother Michael to explain to him that he should have had the job as CEO the whole time. Michael was always excited to share with Gob his successes in life, so Gob wanted to share that he was doing great.   
  
    Gob anxiously anticipated what he would tell Michael while his brother’s phone rang and rang, and eventually connected him to an answering machine.  
  
    “ _Mikey!_ ” Gob breathed into the phone, his voice filled with joy. “ I just wanted to tell you that... I’m CEO now, and it’s going really well and everyone at the office loves me and I’m making some big changes... but it’s all going to be fantastic!” He swung his arm in articulation to the “fantastic”, accidentally spraying lighter fluid all over the kitchen counter.  “... oh you couldn’t see that, could you... Well... I just did a really awesome _illusion_. I’m really awesome now Mikey!”   His grin stretched across his face as he dreamed of Michael’s response to his success. “I have to go do more work now. Talk to you later!”  
  
    The work Gob had to do was to enjoy a nice dinner of some condiments that had been left in the fridge, and to wash up for his time with the new receptionist from the office. It had been a long time since someone had asked him to just hangout. Sure, Tony had asked about the sex date, and he could have called him back and responded but...  
  
    Now that Gob thought about it, looking in the mirror reminded him exactly of that fateful morning. Tony had asked Gob to hang-out multiple times. They were supposed to go to the Little Ballroom, and he’d gotten into that fight with Michael, and had gone to Tony’s house and just talked for hours and hours and hours....  
  
     _“Hi Gobie - It’s Tony! You still on for our sex date tonight?”_  
  
    Tony had wanted to hang out with him! Tony just hadn’t wanted to remember hanging out with him! Why hadn’t he still been on for the sex date? Why had he hidden himself? Why had he let his feelings overtake him? Why, why, why? Everything was closing in around Gob. He felt his knees buckle as his vision darkened and his head spun. And there came the familiar music, surrounding him and suffocating him.  
\--  
  
    When Gob’s new “friend” from the office arrived to pick him up, Gob was in a puddle on the bathroom floor, half dressed, half shaved, and in the darkness just far enough that the rapping on the door was able to rouse him. Remembering where he was and what he was supposed to be doing, he ran around in a panic, throwing on clothes, and running down the stairs to meet the guy. He almost flung the door open, but realized that this might make him look pathetic and not like a cool company CEO, so he calmed himself, and opened the door carefully with a smile.   
    “Hey,” he said cooly, drawing out the word, as if to sound more casual. “Come on in. I still need to finish freshening up, but I’ll be back in a minute.” Gob had never sounded so smooth in his life.  
  
    As he combed back his hair and pulled on some nice white pants, quite similar to the ones he’d worn to his first HA meeting, he realized that he looked good. Professional, but fun. Like the type of guy people would want to be friends with. And, looking at himself with his unbuttoned purple dress shirt, he realized that he actually looked really good. Like, the type of guy people would want to fuck. Perfect.  
  
    Gob returned to his guest downstairs, and they set off. The man had a taxi waiting for them, and as they sat in the backseat, he gave Gob a big grin.   
  
    “I’m glad you agreed to come with me tonight,” he smiled.   
  
    “Same!” Gob tried to act like a friend.   
  
    “The show starts at 9:30, so why don’t we drop by a bar first, grab a drink or two, and then go enjoy what might be the best magic show you’ll ever see!”   
    “Magic?” Gob was suddenly even more interested. After having been kicked out of the Magician’s Alliance, he had lost touch with many of the magicians with whom he had formed it, and he was interested to see how they were doing now. He also liked the idea that perhaps there was a new magician in town, with whom he could collaborate.   
      
    “Yeah, some new act at the Gothic Castle. This is one of the first shows of this theme that this guy’s done. You’re gonna love it.”  
  
    Before Gob got a chance to respond, he realized that a familiar song was playing on the radio. “Hey!” he said excitedly. “This song is about me!”  
  
    “About you?” his friend for the evening replied quizzically.  
  
    “Yes! Me!”   
      
     “Why would anyone hate you this much?”  
  
    “Hate me?” Gob was confused. “No, I’m Getaway! It’s me! They love me!”  
  
    “But...”  
  
    “See how happy the tune is? I have friends! They love me.” Well, loved. That thought was almost dark enough to wrap its angry hands around Gob and pull him in.   
  
    It was clear that the cogs were turning in the receptionist’s head, but he decided better than to explain to Gob the actual meaning of the song. “Yeah Gob, it really is catchy,” he replied with a smile. “But, if I wrote a song about you it would be very different.”  
  
    “Yeah, all of Mark Cherry’s stuff kind of sounds the same, doesn’t it?” The point was clearly lost on Gob, but thankfully the taxi was pulling up to the bar where they could grab a drink and take the edge of any friend-loss fears he was currently holding.   
      
    Sitting down at a table, Gob felt a little giddy to be out with anyone, especially since he could call this both friendship and business all at once. When the waiter arrived at their seats, eyeing the two men curious, Gob quickly ordered a Mike’s Hard Lemonade, while his companion ordered an Appletini. As they waited for their drinks to arrived, they got to chatting.  
  
    “So you like magic, eh?” Gob was curious about his employees interest in the subject, as this was something he was very passionate about, despite not being particularly talented.  
  
    “Yeah, kind of. Actually I kind of got into it because I heard that you were a magician.” As the man said this, he blushed a deep scarlet.   
  
    “Really?” This was news to Gob. Before today he had not been aware that this man even existed - how did he know about him?  
  
    “Yeah. You know, I saw some shows, heard about the Magician’s Alliance, saw your face in the Woops! column of Poof, and suddenly I was fascinated. You’re awesome.” Carl smiled shyly, then continued. “Actually, that’s why I applied to work for the Bluth Company.”  
  
    Gob was quite pleased. “Well,” he said, leaning towards the man, “what if I told you that you have some mice to pick out of the sea?” With those words, he plucked a mouse from behind his new friend’s ear, disregarding the fact that there was no sea nearby. It had been a long time since he had successfully performed that particular micellaneous act, and it appeared that he had forgotten some of the necessary parts.   
  
    The young receptionist laughed, and took the mouse in his hand and patted it. “Who doesn’t love magic?” He laughed. “And what a cute little guy he is!”  
  
    Gob didn’t dare tell him how many mice had accidentally died at his hand.   
  
    As the waiter returned with the drinks, Gob and his new companion continued to chat. Gob discovered that his new friend (who, he discovered, was named Carl) was 27 years old, and enjoyed movies, long walks on the beach and watching the sunset. Back when Gob had had an online dating profile, he had claimed much the same. In fact, as the two chatted, Gob found that they had a lot in common. From the love of magic, to the love of Gob himself, Gob realized that in many ways Carl was like a younger version of himself. In fact, Carl was even wearing some nice tight white pants as well. They looked like the perfect pair. Gob wondered if Steve Holt would have turned out like Carl had he spent time with his father during his childhood.   
          
    “Did you hear about when I made that yacht disappear?” Gob asked giddily.  
  
    “Yeah! That was awesome. Blowing it up. Classic.”   
  
    “And the time I was the _amazing_ Jesus?”  
  
    “Stuck in a storage locker for a few months? Brilliant.” Carl legitimately seemed to be enjoying these magical blunders.   
      
(hey! that’s the name of the fandom!)  
  
    Gob grinned like a school girl as he mentioned yet another failed trick. “And the time at my dad’s funeral! When I fell out of the fake coffin and rolled down the hill!” Normally Gob would be ashamed of these mistakes, but Carl seemed to be validating every moment of it.  
  
    “That one had my favourite article in Poof all together! Beautiful.” As Carl slurped the last few drops of his Appletini, he smiled up at Gob, and asked him a question that caught him completely off guard. “Have you ever thought of doing a magic show at cinco de cuatro?”  
  
    Cinco. _Let’s have gay sex on cinco!_ They had gay sex on cinco. Ah, fuck.   
  
    “Oh, cinco..” Gob said slowly, trying to keep the grin on his face while his mind was churning. “Yeah I suppose I could do a show at cinco. I’m usually busy though. I’m a busy guy... you know...CEO of the Bluth Company and all...”  
  
    “Still, I wish you’d done a show this year! Cinco was super boring. I went down to the festivities by the water and watched this horrible Fantastic 4 musical remake. Really could have used some magic to liven it up. What did you do on cinco this year?”  
  
    “Oh I was busy. Just doing some stuff. Nothing important.” Gob’s eyes were getting wider and it was clear that he was lying. Trying to cover, he changed his story completely. “Actually, I just stayed home. I wasn’t feeling great. Slept it all away.” Slept away all his straightness, maybe.  
  
    “Oh, I see,” replied Carl, glancing at the waiter across the bar. “Should we order more drinks, or...”  
  
    Gob was feeling a little suffocated with thoughts of cinco. “Nah, the show must be starting soon.” At least he hoped it was. He needed to get some air.       
  
    “Okay! Let’s go. I’m excited. This show should be off the hook!” This reminded Gob of someone for whom cinco was also a life-changer. “And, I’m so glad I get to see it with you. Nothing could be more awesome.”  As they stood up, Carl’s hand gently brushed against Gob’s, and he glanced over, looking into his deep blue-green eyes.   
  
    After paying for the drinks, Gob and Carl made their way to the Gothic Castle. On their way there, they made idle chit-chat, until Carl pulled him aside, dragging him into a small alley.   
  
    “Gob,” he said, smiling brightly. “I just know that tonight is going to be a great night.”   
  
    Gob was caught off-guard as Carl leaned in to kiss him, his hand resting gently on his collarbone, his lips mashed against his. Gob liked the tickle of Carl’s well-trimmed mustache, the caress of his cute little beard. He hadn’t noticed before now, but Carl’s cologne smelled very similar to Tony’s. He liked that too. He also liked the way that Carl came onto him instead of the other way around it made him feel wanted. However, something about kissing Carl felt better than any of the other people he’d tried to be with in the past few days, and this was the one thing he was not content about. The only thing he could think of that was completely different from anyone else was that Carl was a man. And he was not supposed to like kissing a man.  
  
    The kiss didn’t last long, but it wasn’t Gob who drew away first. After a moment Carl drew back, saying, “We’ll save this for later.” Gob hadn’t even been aware that a later had been in the works, and realized that he’d accidentally consented to a date, when he’d actually meant just to go out as friends. He was in no place to be dating now, but he liked the way Carl made him feel like he was important, so he wasn’t horribly concerned. As long as he didn’t develop feelings for Carl, he’d be fine.  
  
    “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Save it for later. Let’s go to the show now.” Something to distract him. Carl smiled and agreed.   
  
    The two weren’t far from the Gothic Castle, where a small crowd had gathered outside. Gob strained to see the banner, showing the show’s agenda. He couldn’t see who the magician putting on the act was, but he did see the name of the show - ‘The Bee-attitudes.’   
  
    “Damn,” he muttered, “I should have done this first! And now this guy gets all the glory.”  Perhaps he could still put together a bee show - something better, like the Better Bee, or the Bee-sides. Or maybe Bee-sexual. What else did this guy have going for him that Gob could beat? As the crowd shifted slightly, Gob was able to see more of the banner, but Carl could see even better, so he kindly read it aloud.   
  
    “The Bee-attitudes: A Gay Man’s magical approach to the virtues of life. Featuring a swarm of the OC’s finest bees, and...umm...” Gob’s jaw dropped. “I can’t quite see the bottom of the banner from here.”  
  
    Carl didn’t have to read the final words; Gob knew exactly what they said, and he finished the sentence in a low whisper. “Tony Wonder.”   
  
    Before anyone could say, “Did somebody say...” Gob was gone. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew wasn’t prepared for this.  He wasn’t ready to see Tony on the stage, everyone staring at him and loving him. He wasn’t ready to see Tony’s cute little face, as his heart pounded in his chest and longed for him. And, he certainly wasn’t ready to see Tony perform a successful magic show without rushing to him afterwards, picking him up and swinging him around and kissing him. He wasn’t ready for any of this. It was just too painful.  
  
    “Gob? Gob?”   
  
    Gob was still standing on the sidewalk outside the Gothic Castle, having only retreated into his own mind in the silence, a place that at times was farther away than the other side of the world. Carl shook him gently, and brought him back to reality.  
  
    “Aren’t you ready for the show? The opening act’s on now. I know that’s not normally the best part, but I mean, we want to get good seats, right? Cmon!”  
  
    “Sh...sh..sh..sh...” Gob had no words. “I...I...I.. have to go. I'm sorry Carl.” And with that, he was gone, for real this time, his legs carrying him far away to the only place he’d ever been able to consider a sort of home. The model home, while not very homey, did have the word “home” in its name, and that was the best Gob could do. He remembered nothing of the walk, nothing of the journey, nothing of the cool wind whipping around him. All he remembered was the piercing glow of Tony’s eyes, and the urgency of his kiss. And how he could never experience either of them ever again.   
  



	6. Chapter 6

    Gob finally entered the model home, and collapsed on the couch in the living room. His body was shaking from stress, and he felt exhausted, emotionally and physically. Tony Wonder was doing a show. Tony was using bees. Carl was gay. Carl had kissed him. He’d kind of liked it. There were so many feelings, so many pressing, crushing feelings, and so much panic. He’d thought that maybe he was starting to get over his feelings for Tony, and become the Gob he’d been before, but somehow it seemed that that Gob was long gone. Gone was the Gob who could follow people to their cars, the Gob who could fake a stripper’s death, the Gob who could pretend that he didn’t care anymore. This new Gob cared a hell of a lot.  
  
    Gob grasped for a forget-me-now, long for any semblance of relief from the caring, only to realize he still hadn’t purchased a new bottle after feeding his last pill to his brother. It was a good thing that the home’s bar was still stocked with lots of vodka; this would have to work in the forget-me-now’s absence. Strangely, Gob had never been huge on drinking alone, but tonight he did. He downed the vodka as though it was water, though it still burnt as it swished down his throat. Tonight he wasn’t drinking to have fun - he was drinking to forget.  
  
    As the alcohol started to sink in, Gob was thankful to see that Franklin was sitting on the couch with his big eyes and crazy hair, seemingly waiting for him.  
  
    “Franklin?”  
  
    “Yeah, Gob?”  
  
    “Can we just sing together?” Gob was too sad and confused to just have a conversation with his own hand.  
  
    “You are so beautiful to meeee,” Franklin sang in his raspy little voice, but Gob frowned.  
      
    “Not that, Franklin. Not now.” Normally Franklin sang exactly what Gob wanted him to sing, but this time, Gob had no idea what he wanted. No idea what song, no idea what love, no idea what life.  
  
    All of a sudden Gob heard a noise from the stairs, and he looked up to see a familiar face, looking quite disheveled. In Gob’s drunk vision, he was so blurry that he couldn’t quite make out the figure, although his youthful face was certainly well known to Gob.  
  
    “Hey.... you...” he slurred. “What are you doing here?”  
  
    “Oh, just... visiting....nothing important...you know how it is...just missed the model home....you know...uh.. yeah!”  
  
    “Oh. Okay,” Gob replied, too drunk and strained from the stressful evening to really care. As he turned back to Franklin, some gentle creaks of floorboards sounded behind him, and perhaps it was just his drunk brain, but he could have sworn he heard some urgent whispering. (“ _He won’t remember anything. He’s too drunk.” “What if he does? I can’t have my...” “He won’t. It’s fine._ ”)  
      
    “A taste of honey, tasting much sweeter than wine..” Franklin knew Gob had bees on the mind, as well as alcohol.  
  
    “No. Not that. Why don’t we sing our classic...” Gob took a swig of vodka.   
    “It’s not easy, being black...” Franklin sang, his voice scratchy from Gob’s drunkeness.  
  
    “No. Not that. How about...”  
  
    And together, Gob and Franklin sang a very drunken, very sloppy version of a song he’d sung many times before:  
      

 _“Oh you can’t tell me it’s not worth tryin’ for, I can’t help it, there’s nothing I want more. Yeah, I would fight for you, I would lie for you, walk the line for you, yeah I would die for you...You know it’s true, everything I do, I do it, for you.”_  
  
    As they sang, Gob felt himself fading into an alcohol-induced darkness, and realized that for the first time, he wasn’t singing this song for Michael.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
    Gob woke up to a blinking phone, and a throbbing head. The left-over vodka had spilled all over the floor, but it was no loss because it would have been spoiled anyway. Cringing at the light, he picked up his phone to check his messages.  
  
    “Hey... Gob? It’s Carl. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You seemed kind of upset last night, and I’m sure it’s not really like you to run off...” It was. He ran off quite often, actually. “I really hope it wasn’t my fault. Um... yeah give me a call back when you can...”  
  
    Gob cringed. Carl. Alcohol was certainly not nearly as good at helping you forget events that had happened previously than forget-me-nows. He remembered everything from the previous evening, up until the point when he’d gotten about halfway through the bottle of vodka. He had to remember to pick up those forget-me-nows so he could begin to forget again. That being said, Gob was accustomed to waking up feeling like he’d rather be dead, so he was generally able to shrug it off.  
  
    The whole evening had been pretty strange, he had to admit. He’d had fun with Carl, he supposed, and then ended up at a Tony Wonder magic show, where Tony had clearly ripped the whole idea off of him. Bees. Seriously? _Bees?_ He was the gentleman honeybee farmer. Tony was the gay magician. Gob was supposed to use bees in an act sometime - it was only natural. Even though he’d never done it before. Stupid Tony. Making him love him, making him feel for him, fucking him and forgetting him, and stealing his revolutionary ideas of the bees. _Bees?_ Really?  
  
    Although Gob still solemnly refused to admit that he wanted to see Tony even the slightest bit, he realized that this show gave him a chance to get back on...er... _at_ Tony. He could go to the show in disguise, figure out how Tony did the tricks, and then expose him to the whole world! As had happened to Gob years prior, having your tricks exposed to the non-magician world resulted in an expulsion from the Magician’s Alliance, even if you’d founded the alliance itself; it didn’t matter how your tricks were exposed, it was simply an instant expulsion.  He could show the public that Tony Wonder wasn’t so wonderful at all. He was a heartbreaker and a shitty magician. Well, maybe just the first part.  
      
    Gob quickly “something”ed Tony Wonder’s new act on his iPhone, looking for the dates of his upcoming shows. The Gothic Castle’s website showed him that Tony would be performing his “Bee-Attitudes” for the next seven nights, which gave Gob plenty of time to figure out the tricks and expose him. In fact, he could go that very evening, and expose him as quickly as possible. For Gob, feelings were incapacitating, but revenge gave him a fiery flame of motivation. He could now get revenge on Tony and move on with his life. In the morning light, despite his hang-over, he could see clearly, and realized that this was the best course of action he could possibly take. He would have gotten up right that moment to find a disguise, but he decided to wait out the hang-over. Also, he was just plain lazy, in spite of his motivation, just like the rest of his family.  
  
    When Gob finally emerged from the model home, it was almost 7pm, and he was a man on a mission. He picked up a pick, a fake beard and mustache, glasses, and some new clothes that he would never wear. By the time he was finished he looked like some guy out of a weird 80s flick. He also likely smelled the part, as he still reeked of booze and hadn’t showered since the night before. By the time he’d mastered his disguise, it was almost 9pm, and he made his way over to the Gothic Castle, stopping quickly at a local bar to pound back a few shots first, just to make him a little braver.  
  
    When Gob took his seat in the middle section of the auditorium, the opening act was already onstage. Gob had a feeling that Tony would have referred to this guy as a “little w” - He was doing okay with his magic, a little bit of scarf waving, a little bit of making balls appear ( _“We all know they’re in your hand!”_ ), and just the right ratio of rabbit to hat-ness, but he was nothing spectacular. His presentation was also rather lacking - he didn’t dance around the stage, building the drama, looking intensely over the audience; instead, he just did a small flourish and announced his next trick. That was fine ( _“Move around a little, loser!")_ , but Gob couldn’t wait to get to the main part of the show - Tony’s “Bee-Attitudes”. As the magician finally finished, the audience applauded politely ( _“C’mon! Let’s get to the real magician!”_ ) and the stage lights lowered, ready for Tony. Gob was excited that he had a great view of the stage, because despite the amount of people attending the show and how crowded the auditorium was, no one was sitting in the seats immediately around him. This was as much of a coincidence as Lindsay and Tobias’ India incidences.  
  
    The audience bubbled in anticipation, when suddenly a booming voice came over the speakers.  
  
    “They say that we are blessed. They say we live in a country where we have everything we could ever want. A country where every man is free to walk down the street and no one will stop them, where they have freedom of speech, freedom of sexuality, freedom of religion. But, this is not true.” A spotlight rose, stage-left, and a large bee-hive was visible. “In this country, you will find struggles, because of who you are, because of bees.” Out of the hive rose a cloud of bees, and they buzzed angrily. Several shrieks were let out throughout the audience, likely from people suffering from an allergy to the creature. One would have thought that the name of the show would have tipped them off that it might not be the safest environment for those involved. “Because of bees, you will have trouble, people will mock you, lie about you. But the strongest of us, with the most prevalent attitudes, we will prevail.” The announcer kept speaking, but Gob’s entire attention was drawn to the stage behind the bees, where a dark figure was emerging, and slowly walking straight into the swarm. He wasn’t wearing a bee-keepers suit, just dark pants and a dark jacket, and the signature little ‘w’ on his face.  
  
    “Presenting, Tony Wonder - The Bee-Attitudes!” The audience applauded.  
  
    Tony didn’t dance. He didn’t strut. He didn’t wave his arms around. Not now. He just walked solemnly through the swarm of bees, looking straight ahead. “I am a gay man,” he said. “I have seen my share of struggles. But, I just tell them, bee gone!” With a wave of his arms, suddenly the bees swooshed back into the hive, and the crowd gasped. “And suddenly things are alright.”  
  
    The whole evening became a blur. At first Gob made a few half-hearted sarcastic comments, but as the show went on his cheers became more and more enthusiastic, and his jaw dropped farther and farther. He had no idea how Tony was doing his tricks, but they were amazing. There were so many bees too - Tony juggled bees, swallowed bees, and jumped on a trampoline surrounded by bees. He even curled himself into a ball inside a beehive and burst forth on the opposite side of the stage, to the crowd’s delight. The actual theme of “Bee-Attitudes” wasn’t actually particularly strong, and seemed like someone was at a loss for a good bee pun, but the bees were strong, and the tricks were solid, and Gob couldn’t find a fault anywhere. He was so absorbed in the show that ever ounce of revenge and despair was swept from him, and all he felt was a moment of sheer enjoyment. As the final curtain of bees showered down, and the show finished, Gob felt himself rise to his feet in applause, giving his first real heartfelt standing ovation.  
  
    Turning to a person sitting several rows away, Gob excitedly gushed, “That was so cool! I mean....where did the bees go?” The person turned away quickly, but he kept talking. “And, that’s my Tony... I mean my friend...my friend Tony...” It was at that moment that Gob remembered why he had come that evening. He had come to get revenge on Tony for all that he had done to him, and to, for once and for all, lose all traces feelings. “Well, I haven’t been entirely successful...” he hissed to no one in particular, “But I’ll come back tomorrow and  _ruin this shit-show!_ I’ll expose it _all_.”  In spite of his words, he couldn’t keep a stupid grin from creeping over his face.  
  
    Gob didn’t stay to greet Tony after the show. A part of him longed to, but he knew that it was a bad idea. And so,  he returned home, feeling a little bit empty, but looking forward to perhaps exacting some revenge the following night. He’d figure out those tricks eventually, even if it meant he had to attend all seven shows.  
   


	7. Chapter 7

The next few days flew by. Gob would wake-up in the morning, try to something explanations for Tony’s illusions, find nothing, and then get himself dressed and head to the show. Sunday night Gob figured out that there was a chance that some of the bees in the illusions were illusions themselves. Monday night Gob stayed behind briefly to smooze the opening act to see if he knew anything (He didn’t.). Tuesday, he sat right in the very front row, hoping that a change of light would change how he perceived the different parts of the presentation. Unfortunately he sat so close to the stage that he actually got stung by a rogue bee, and decided not to do that again. Wednesday he actually tried to talk to Tony after the show, but he failed at working his way through the crowd towards him; he did, however, make eye contact briefly, at which point his insides melted a little bit, and he may have screamed out, “I love your work!”, much to his dismay. Tony had winked at him, before continuing on his conversation with a frenzied fan. Gob had gone home that evening seething with white hot hate that was really just a lot of feelings. 

By the time Thursday night arrived, the second to last night of Tony’s show at the Gothic Castle, Gob was at the point where he felt almost attractive and comfortable. As the days passed, Gob’s clothing choices had gotten slightly less extreme, although the glasses, facial-hair, and wig remained. He felt that his attractiveness was important, because he needed a new strategy - tonight he was going to talk to Tony and get him to tell him the secrets to his illusions. It wasn’t an airtight strategy, because if Tony told him his secrets, there was a good chance Tony would know that it was him who had leaked them, but at this point Gob was growing desperate. He was unwilling to admit to himself that he actually enjoyed going to the shows, and that he was going to be sad when they were over, so he tried to concentrate on the revenge part of the situation. He had to continuously justify his attending of the shows, just so that he didn’t fall apart completely. 

As Gob was finishing dressing himself for the evening, he noticed a strange dot protruding from his neck. “Shit. What if it’s cancer?” Gob had heard rumors that everything was cancer, and even though he didn’t know much about it from experience, he’d heard that it was pretty bad. He wasn’t sure whether or not cancer was contagious, so he decided to stop by the doctor’s before heading to the show that evening, just to be safe. He didn’t want a repeat of the syphilis incident of 2011 (and 2010 and 2009 and 2008...). Therefore he headed straight to the nearest clinic. At the doctor’s office, Gob sat nervously in the waiting room, until being called inside an examination room. 

“Now, what’s the problem today, sir? I see in your file that you’ve had some...interesting problems.” The doctor peered at Gob’s information with shock and a bit of confusion.

“Well, I found this thing on my neck...” Gob said nervously. “Is it cancer?”

“What, this?” The doctor peered closely. “No... definitely not cancer.”

“Oh good.” Gob was relieved. “Then what is it?”

“Unfortunately this, sir, is a bug.”

“A bug?” Gob asked frantically. “Like, a spider? Or a cockroach? Will it kill me?”

“No, no,” the doctor reassured him. “Not that sort of bug. It’s a microphone, and some sort of transmitting device. It appears someone was trying to keep close tabs on you. Any idea how someone could have planted this on you? Have you passed out in a public place? Been in a large crowd? Forgotten to lock your house?” 

Gob had done all these things. He looked guiltily at the doctor. “Can you get the bug off?”

“Of course. You might feel a slight poke, kind of like a bee sting, but I can get it off.” The doctor gently removed the microphone, and Gob cringed slightly, but he was thankful to have it off. “No one will be watching you anymore.”

“How long do you think the bug was on me?” Gob asked, a bit worried.

“Impossible to tell,” the doctor admitted. “But it appears to be waterproof, so I suggest it was intended for the long-run. Someone’s probably been keeping close tabs on you for a while.”

Gob wasn’t fond of this idea. There had been a number of things he’d done in the past few weeks that he’d hoped no one had seen, and he certainly hoped hadn’t been observed. Actually, now that he thought about it, one specific incident that he never wanted anyone to see was, in fact, on film. He had initially planned to have the cameras from “To Catch a Predator” exploit Tony as actually being straight, but instead he had accidentally made a gay sex-tape. There was not a single reason why he would ever want to have a tape showing what he’d done that evening, yet, there it was: it existed. Gob only hoped that nothing else had happened since the bug had been placed on him that someone could hold against him either. 

Gob thanked the doctor for his help, and then left the office, pondering why someone would want to bug him. He hadn’t done any interesting illusions lately that someone would want to spy on (although, now that he thought of it, he should have kept the bug and put it on Tony. That would have been helpful), and he didn’t think the Bluth Company had any major secrets at the moment, except all the ones that practically weren’t even secrets anymore. Gob could have pondered this issue for a while, but it was time for him to take his seat at the Gothic Castle, and do a little snooping of his own. Tonight was the night when he would finally expose Tony’s illusions to the world and exact his revenge.

Gob sat in the third row from the front, just far enough that he was out of the bee-zone, but close enough that he could see everything perfectly. As the show started, he watched in wonder, smiling at every cheeky grin Tony smiled, laughing with every joke he told, feeling his heart swell with pride every time the audience applauded a successful illusion. This was everything he wanted to avoid, yet he was so wrapped up in the show, despite it being his sixth time seeing it, that he couldn’t even be mad at himself for loving every moment. He laughed, smiled, and even cried a tiny bit when an emotional speech was given over the speakers. By the time the show ended, he felt exhilarated, overjoyed, and not nearly ready enough to talk to Tony. But he had to. That was the whole reason he’d come that evening, or so he told himself. He had to talk to Tony and he had to figure out how these illusions were performed. It was his only option. 

Because Gob had a great deal of self-control and drive, he promptly ran out of the Gothic Castle and to the bar next door, avoiding Tony completely. There he sat down at the bar, ordered a Mike’s Hard Lemonade, and wondered to himself whether or not he’d ever be brave enough to confront Tony. Would he ever actually do anything about this situation he’d found himself in? He sat there, on a ragged barstool, pathetically sipping his drink, and staring blankly at the wall in front of him him. Then, breaking his silence, came a voice:

“Hey, can I grab a vodka cranberry?” He wasn’t talking to Gob, just addressing the bartender, but Gob’s eyes grew wide as he knew exactly who was standing right next to him. He shot a glance up at him and, yup, same pointy hair, same perfect little “W” beard, right there, just inches away. Shit. 

Gob coughed. “T...t...t....Tony Wonder?” He looked up at Tony with a small smile that accidentally turned into a stupid grin.

Tony looked at him. “Oh, hi!” he said, seeming very cool about the whole thing. He paused for a moment. “You look very familiar.”

“Yeah,” Gob replied. “I go to your shows.”

“Yeah!” Tony agreed enthusiastically. “That’s it. You go to my shows!” Looking a little closer, he continued, “Hey, you’re the guy who got stung by the bee a couple days ago, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, that was me,” Gob admitted gleefully, surprised Tony remembered that. “It was weird though. I usually don’t get stung by bees.”

“Neither do I.”    
“Same!” Gob blurted out accidentally, excited to have another something in common with Tony Wonder. God, why was he so pathetic?

Tony just smiled. “Hey,” he said thoughtfully. “You’re kinda cute. Want to grab a table?”

Everything was going better than planned, although in that moment, as Gob looked into Tony’s eyes, he didn’t actually remember what the plan was. “Yeah,” he replied. “Let’s grab a table.”

As Gob got up from his seat at the bar and followed Tony to a nearby table, his heart was pounding inside his chest. Tony didn’t know who he was. Tony had no idea that he was Gob. Yet Tony was there, and ready to sit down and spend time with him. Gob had no idea what this meant in any capacity, but he did have a feeling that things were about to change. Regardless of the situation, he knew that he had to be cool and smooth, to get the right kind of response from Tony. That’s why, as he slid into his chair, he immediately blurted out, “I really love your work!”

Tony smiled at Gob, but there seemed to be a sadness in his eyes. “Thanks,” he replied. “It’s fun working with those bees, but I hate the way the act came about.”

“SAME.” What was Gob doing? He was like a little puppy-dog who was adorable, but poorly-trained.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you went through some really hard times, and this is where you came out, right? That’s kind of sad.” Gob hoped this was a good enough recovery, and Tony’s returning smile confirmed that it was.    
“Yeah, it is.” Despite Tony’s smile, his eyes remained sad. “I was doing pretty well, but sometimes things just go wrong.”

“I know exactly how that is,” Gob replied. 

“Same,” Tony nodded. “But, here’s to forgetting the past, and enjoying one hell of a night!” He raised his glass to Gob’s, and Gob clinked.

“To one hell of a night!”

Gob and Tony talked together for a while, barely touching their drinks, too involved in their conversation to be distracted. Although Tony believed that he had just met Gob, within 20 minutes the two men were talking as though they’d know each other their entire lives. Even though revenge was still on the back on Gob’s mind, and he was unimpressed that he was having feelings, it was somehow easier, less painful, to feel when the subject of his affections was right in front of him. As he and Tony flirted, joked, and giggled together, Gob wondered why it was so wrong for him to love another man. In that moment, he temporarily forgot that Tony had chosen to forget him. 

“You know,” Tony said softly looking at Gob, “I never caught your name.”

“It’s George,” Gob told him honestly. His name really was George, but he’d never had the chance to be called by it, as his father had taken the name first . He’d always wished to some capacity that he could be called George - the name sounded like someone respectful, even though his father had never commanded much respect. Gob too, had never been the object of much respect, but a part of him wished he had. Then he could be like Michael, the successful brother, the more well-loved brother, the brother who wasn’t a huge joke. 

“Well, George,” Tony smiled as he said the name. “Would you like to dance?”

Far to the left of the two men, a dance floor had opened up, and an enthusiastic DJ was playing music with a catchy beat. Pairs and singles were bobbing around on the dance floor, grinding, stomping, and swinging. It looked fun.

“I love to dance!” Gob answered, thinking of how he paraded around on-stage before his acts.

“Same!” Tony replied, also thinking of his own stage performances. 

Gob and Tony made their way to the dance floor and began to dance together. Both were significantly worse dancers than they realized, but neither noticed. Initially they danced from a distance, yelling at each other in conversation as they moved their bodies to the music. Gob, temporarily disconnected from his feelings, took this moment to attempt to gain some information from Tony.

“So,” Gob began. “You know, I’ve been really wondering how you did some of those tricks!”

“Tricks?” Tony asked, shaking his head as he spoke loudly. “Do you mean illusions? Tricks are something strippers do for tips!”

“I mean your illusions!” Gob affirmed, still moving about awkwardly to the beat. 

“I can’t tell you!” Tony told him, articulating clearly. “Magician’s Code!”

“I’m a magician too!” Gob told him, and he reached over and plucked a mouse out from behind Tony’s ear.

“Classic!” Tony laughed, taking the mouse from Gob and releasing it onto the dance floor. As squeals arose from some of the nearby girls, Tony continued. “I had a friend who used to do tricks with mice all the time. He called them micellaneous!”

“Same!” Gob said enthusiastically. He was surprised that someone else had used the same name as him. 

“Since you’re a magician, and we seem to get along so well, I guess I can trust you with the secret of my biggest illusion,” Tony deliberated, and then leaned in close, cupping his hand to Gob’s ear, and whispering. Despite the clarity which he tried to produce, Gob couldn’t hear a word over the pounding music, and the overwhelming sensation he felt caused by the proximity of Tony’s body. Gob could smell Tony’s cologne, just the perfect amount, mixed with the sweat from his body. As Tony’s breath tickled his ear, he inhaled deeply. Something had changed. And, in that moment, he didn’t care that he hadn’t heard the secret to the illusion. Somehow, it didn’t matter anymore. 

As Tony finished whispering his secrets into the noise, he stood still for a moment, clearly sensing a change in the energy between the two, just as Gob did. Instead of stepping back, he stayed close, and slid his hands down, until they were resting on Gob’s hips. Standing so close, he no longer had to yell, and he was able to look into Gob’s eyes as he murmured, “It’s so strange that we just met tonight. I feel like I know you. Like I’ve always known you.”

“Same,” Gob whispered, and the words had barely escaped his lips when Tony leaned forward and kissed him. It was as if every fire that had ever burned in his body had ignited, and he kissed him back, with a surge of passion. As Tony roughly slipped his tongue inside his mouth, Gob realized that he’d never felt so happy. He and Tony were kissing, and there was no deceit or confusion...except for the fact that Tony didn’t realize that it was him that he was kissing. Tony pushed his body closer against Gob’s, ignoring that they were in a public place, murmuring, “Oh, George...” With that word Gob was temporarily brought back to reality, but he made himself forget by slipping his own hands around Tony’s back, allowing them to wander, and he kissed him again. Nothing had ever felt so right in Gob’s life. 

Their kisses became more and more desperate, and Gob felt hotter and hotter, and like the dance floor wasn’t quite the right place to be at that moment. He felt exposed, despite being fully dressed. He slipped his lips away from Tony’s for just a moment. “Tony, I...” Tony had begun kissing and suckling his neck and Gob struggled to get the words out. It felt so good, like every pleasure center in his body was firing at once. “D..d...do you want to go somewhere a bit more private?”

Tony nodded, and grabbing Gob’s arm, he pulled him off the dance floor, and out the door. “I know just the place,” he murmured, and began to lead him down the street. Gob couldn’t help but hope that the place was close by, because his whole body was crying to be close to Tony again. They could finally be together. No one would judge him. It wouldn’t be a huge mistake. Everything would be fine. Better than fine.

Suddenly, Tony stopped in his path, and looked at Gob, staring right into his longing eyes. With a slow movement, he reached over, and stroked his face. “You know, George,” he said thoughtfully. “You remind me of a man I thought I loved.”

“What happened?” Gob asked, not quite sure what was happening in that moment either, except that it didn’t appear to be good.

“I...I don’t know,” Tony said, his voice breaking. “And George... I...I...I can’t do this. It’s too soon. I’m so sorry.” He painfully removed his hand from Gob’s face, and turned away, hurrying off down the street. Gob watched in agony as the man he loved walked away from him, and as his heart sank deep in his heart, he decided yet again that his feelings were a huge mistake. He watched Tony as he got farther and farther away for as long as he could bear to, finally tearing his gaze away, and beginning the long trek back to the model home. A single tear slipped from his eye. Tony loved someone else, and this was the end. He must vow to never feel again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those with sensitivities, this chapter contains some dubcon. You have been warned.

After going through a difficult event, Gob would often find himself fading into darkness, and sleeping for days on end. In many ways this was sad, because he’d find himself in such a deep depression that he just couldn’t shake, but in others it was a blessing. When Gob was in his darkness, nothing hurt anymore; everything was numb, and he didn’t feel a thing. This night, however, was different. As Gob returned home with Tony’s kiss still lingering on his lips, his heart ached and his thoughts raced, allowing him no rest. All Gob wanted was to escape the moment, but as he still had no forget-me-nows, and had no motivation to drink, he laid down in his bed, and begged for sleep to come. Unfortunately, every time Gob closed his eyes, visions of Tony danced across his vision, and he cried out, wondering why he could get no relief from the anguish that was sweeping over him. Every time he breathed in, Tony’s scent assaulted his nostrils with something beautiful, but also horribly painful. Gob loved Tony, but Tony loved another man. Nothing could be more painful than this.  
  
    All night Gob tossed and turned, and the tears that slipped from his eyes were filled with his shame. How had he failed so badly at revenge yet again? Tony was supposed to be hurting right now, not him. Tony was supposed to be crying and hiding, having lost his reputation and his job. It wasn’t supposed to be him. But, Gob couldn’t shake one image from his head - the image of Tony’s face as he told him that he couldn’t be with him. He’d seemed so sad, so hurt, so pathetic, and a part of Gob, wished that he could take all of Tony’s pain away and take it on himself. That wasn’t normal though. Gob had never actually wanted to take someone’s pain before, let alone someone who he’d tried to hurt. What a strange feeling. This was certainly a feeling that he had rid himself of as soon as humanly possible.  
  
    As the sun rose, Gob’s felt much the same. He hadn’t slept all night, and his head ached from stress and lack of sleep. Quite frankly, he felt like shit, and for some reason this made him want to talk to his brother Michael. For some reason he associated feeling bad with Michael, despite the fact that he secretly worshipped the ground Michael stood upon. His little brother had always been so successful, and he always had everything together, even though Gob made fun of him frequently.  
  
    Gob picked up his phone, and dialed a number he knew by memory.  
  
    “Hello?” A weary voice answered the phone.  
  
    “Mikey!” Gob was thrilled to hear Michael’s voice.  
      
    “Oh, hi Gob,” Michael replied, with much less enthusiasm. “What do you need?”  
  
    Gob needed a lot of things. He needed to never feel again, to get over his feelings from Tony, to sleep. Gob needed to feel human again, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.  
  
    “I just want to hang out,” Gob said with a slight whine. “Isn’t that what brothers are for? Brothers love...brothers?”  
  
    “Gob, I’ve been really stressed and busy lately. I don’t really have time.”   
    This is not what Gob wanted to hear. He decided to try one last time. “Where are you? I’ll come to you.”  
  
    Michael sighed. “I’m at the Penthouse. That’s where I’ve been living. I suppose if you stop by soon we can meet up for a minute.”  
  
    This was all the encouragement Gob needed. He was certain that Michael would help him feel better, despite the fact that his track record was quite the opposite. Despite the lack of sleep, Gob quickly made his way over to the penthouse. As Gob knocked on the door, he had a strange feeling as if he was being watched.  
  
    Michael opened the door, his eyes shadowed with heavy bags, and his hair ruffled and greasy. “Wow Gob,” he said wearily. “You look awful.”  
  
    Gob _did_ look awful, but not quite as bad as Michael did. “You’re not looking so hot yourself,” he responded.  
  
    “Well, I can’t deny that,” Michael responded, shutting the door behind Gob. “The past few weeks have been a complete mess. I...I don’t know why all this has been happening.”  
  
    “Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
    “No,” Michael responded firmly. “There’s nothing you can do. I don’t need your help.”  
  
    “Well,” Gob began, looking at Michael right in his eyes, “I never said I wanted to help.” But he did. He didn’t like seeing his brother unhappy. This helpfulness was not a trait Gob was accustomed to having, and it suited him about as well as a mustache on his nephew.  
  
    “It’s just been a lot, okay? I do not want to talk to you about my trips back and forth from the police station, my missing alibi, the fact that my son hates me and I just lost my girlfriend, or the fact that everything is falling to pieces.” Michael did want to talk about it. His own life interested him a whole lot more than whatever was happening with Gob.  
  
    “Well, my life has been super awesome,” Gob lied. “I’ve fallen in love.” This part was true.  
  
    “Oh really. What’s he like?”   
  

    “What?”  
  
    Michael paused. “Sorry, I misspoke there. I’m really tired. Who’s the lucky lady?”  
  
    Gob wasn’t certain whether Michael had really misspoken, and it was now his turn to pause. “It doesn’t matter.”  
  
    “Well, sometimes it does matter, when your lady is also dating your son.”  
  
    “Well, that’s a _bad example_.”  
  
    “Except, Gob, it actually happened.” Even in his despair, Michael managed to sound condescending.  
  
    Gob smiled smugly. “Well, it’s not like Steve will ever date anyone I’ve ever been with, so I’m _fine_.” This also was not the best example, but we’ll get back to that later.  
  
    “Well, regardless, you have no idea how I feel. You could never know how it feels to feel this _shitty_.”  
      
    It was clear to Gob that Michael was pretty broken, and although Michael normally held no compassion for his troubles, Gob felt he could be vulnerable too.  
  
    “To be honest, things have been pretty shitty for me too,” he admitted. “The m...person I love doesn’t love me back, and I’ve been struggling with feelings and all sorts of stuff. It really sucks.” This felt weird to say out loud, though strangely relieving. “D...do you have any advice for me?”  
  
    Michael looked at Gob, through tired eyes, and said the only thing he could think to say: “If you really want to break the heart of someone you love, and crush their soul, punch them in the face.”  
  
    Gob, eager to please, thrust his hand out in a punch, smashing a glass vase that had somehow been left unscathed in the ostrich incident. “Like this?” he asked proudly.  
  
    “Yes, Gob,” Michael sighed. “Like that.” He exhaled again. “I think it’s time you leave before you wreck the place. This has been nice.” It hadn’t been.  
  
    As Michael ushered Gob out the door, Gob desperately wanted to beg him to let him stay, to take him in, to teach him the ways of love and success. Instead all he had was Michael’s one piece of advice, which didn’t seem especially helpful. As he walked down the hall, he punched the air a few times, and then in his enthusiasm he punched the door to Lucille 2’s apartment. With a loud bang, his fist struck the wooden surface of the door, leaving his knuckles sore, and resulting in a shout from inside the apartment.       “What the hell was that?” a man’s voice wondered loudly. “Is someone trying to break in?”  
  
    Gob had had bad experiences in the past with people thinking he was threatening them in their apartment. Therefore he took off running down the hallway as fast as he possibly could, hoping that no shots would be fired. As he exited Balboa Towers, his phone rang, and he picked it up, slightly winded from his sprint.  
  
    “Hello?”  
  
    “Gob! Wow you sound breathy. Have you just been working out?” A rich male voice greeted him.  
  
    “Yeah. I’m really ripped,” Gob lied. Gob had been in good shape years previously when Tony had noticed his body, but his recent confusion and depression had led to him neglecting the gym. He was still in pretty good shape, but not as good as he’d once been. “Wait. Who is this?”  
  
    “It’s Carl, of course.” Carl sounded slightly offended that Gob hadn’t recognized his voice. “The new office hot tub just came in that we... I mean you... ordered, and some of our chairs are making this weird squeaky noise. We need you to come in and sort things out.”  
  
    Gob remembered that he had actually enjoyed the last time he’d gone to the Bluth Company, and he supposed he was due for another visit. “Okay,” he responded. “I’ll be over in a bit.”  
  
    “Great. And Gob, are you alright? I haven’t heard from you, and I just thought...”      “Thought that you all needed me?”  
  
    “Well... I guess. And that maybe I expected you to call me back. I thought we’d had fun.”  
  
    Oh, right. Gob had almost successfully forgotten about that evening. He had had fun, but the whole situation was really complicated, especially since he’d actually liked kissing Carl, and had tried to push that idea from his mind. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll come to the office now.”  
  
    Gob quickly hung up before Carl could say anything else. In an act of defiance Gob almost did not go to the office, but decided that he actually wanted Carl and the people at the office to like him, and his acts of defiance usually made people angry for some reason. In addition to this, the idea of going to the office had temporarily gotten his mind off Tony, and this was exactly what he wanted.  
  
    Arriving at the office, Gob met Carl at the front desk.  
  
    “Hi Carl,” he said with a smile. Carl still liked him, right? They’d had fun. Plus, he’d said he was sorry.  
  
    “Hi Gob,” Carl replied. “I’m glad you came.”  
  
    “Well actually I didn’t, not then...” Gob responded with a skirting glance. “But I’m happy to be here now! Now, how do I work?”  
  
    “Well, should we fix the chairs or the hot tub first?” Carl asked with a smile.      “Let’s do the chairs.” Why not? Gob thought.  
  
    Gob and Carl checked out the chairs, which were conveniently located in a room free from other staff. They were unable to determine why the chairs squeaked, although they did determine that they squeaked an equal amount regardless of whether one person or two sat on them while they rocked back and forth. As the two idly chatted, Gob couldn’t help but notice that, objectively of course, Carl was very attractive. His lips were just so luscious, and his ass filled out his pants just perfectly. And Gob should not have been thinking this way.  
  
    “Well that was unsuccessful,” Carl giggled slightly, his hand brushing against Gob. “Oh well. Who minds a few squeaky chairs? Let’s check the hot tub now. We need to make sure it’s set-up properly so that the staff can enjoy it.”  
  
    Gob agreed, wanting the staff to like him, but feeling a little weary about the situation for some reason. As they made their way to the break-room, where the hot tub had been installed, Gob could feel the heat rising into the air, like a densely blanketing fog. He had a feeling that someone in his family had once warned him of the dangers of putting a hot tub in a normal room, but he ignored this.  
      
    “So, this is the hot tub,” Gob stated, looking at Carl. “Looks like I made a good choice.” The hot tub was quite large, filling the main part of the break-room. A good choice would have actually been to purchase a much smaller hot tub, or, in fact, to not have purchased one at all,  but it was this sort of huge mistake that Gob was apt to make.  
  
    “I think it looks like it’s going to be fun,” Carl agreed, glancing sideways at Gob. “Now you just need to test it out to make sure it’s....good.”  
  
    “But, how can I test it in my $3500 suit?” It wasn’t a $3500 suit. In fact, it wasn’t a suit at all. Gob was wearing a wrinkly dress shirt and some white pants that would have cost him $100 at the most. Gob had just made the statement out of habit, and perhaps because he’d actually forgotten what he was wearing. A CEO of a company would wear an expensive suit: C’mon!  
  
    Carl looked at Gob for a moment, and, ignoring the lack of truth in the comment thoughtfully said, “Well, you could always take it off.”  
  
    Gob was feeling very hot. The air in the room was so warm, and Carl was standing closer to him than he would have liked. Everything was sticky and the heat was almost visible in the air , clinging to the steam which surrounded him. His mind was cloudy and he couldn’t think straight, but he did know that he might feel better without his clothes. Maybe they’d stop the heat from crushing him.  
  
    The door to the break-room was clearly shut, but Gob glanced at it nervously. “What is it that I need to check?” he asked, beginning to unbutton his shirt.  
  
    “Well, you know, the usual stuff,” Carl told him, leaning in close to help Gob remove his top. “Is the temperature right, are the jets working, does it make you want to relax. And, of course, will your staff be able to enjoy it _together._ ” He was unbuttoning further and further down the shirt, and his hand kept brushing against Gob’s stomach and Gob’s muscles tensed against his touch.  
      
    “Th..th...that makes sense,” Gob stammered, as Carl finished with the final button, and gently pulled the shirt off him. He was uncomfortable. Carl was being so forward with him, and seemed so different from the young, puppy-like man whom he’d seen the previous week. He was  not naive enough to think that Carl wasn’t hitting on him, and he wasn’t unaroused enough not to like it. Something just felt weird, but at the same time, a part of him wanted to wrap himself around Carl and mold his body against his. Carl reached to help him remove his pants as well, but he frowned, saying, “I can remove them myself!” He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. Any of this.  
  
    Gob felt feverish, and a wave of delirium was beginning to overtake him. Why was he here in this room again? Why was he taking off his clothes? Oh right. He had to test out the hot tub. He couldn’t go in with his clothes on. Then how would he ever leave? If only he was wearing his stripper pants, because in sweltering room, it was a struggle to even pull them off. He looked up at Carl and tried to smile, to distract himself from his grogginess. “H..h...have you tried the hot tub out yet?”  
  
    “No,” Carl responded, and Gob noticed that he had removed his shirt as well. “I had to wait for you.” Was that seduction in his eyes? What was he holding in his right hand?  
      
    The next few minutes were a blur, and how Gob got from where he was, to sitting naked in the hot tub, was a mystery. He remembered that he’d gotten in on his own, with Carl still outside, and asking questions, like how the jets were functioning, and whether the temperature of the water seemed right. The only answer which he could get out was, “Hot,” and although he was mainly referring to the temperature, Carl really did have nice abs, and that might have been on his mind as well. As the humidity in the room dampened Carl’s skin, he looked rather appealing, sweat clinging to him, making him look ragged and sexy.  
  
    Gob’s memories were fading. Everything was foggy. Where was he? Why was he there? Suddenly there were lips pushed against his, another naked body, another naked man. Who was it who was kissing him? It was so warm. Nothing made sense. It felt good, however. He remembered when he’d kissed Tony, and he’d felt like his whole body was going to explode, every nerve ending feeling like it as on fire. This was like kissing Tony; perhaps he was kissing Tony. Kissing him felt amazing, made him feel desperate, made him feel loved, like nothing in the world could be more right. That’s who he wanted to kiss: Tony.  There was a gentle beard rubbing against his face, strong hands grasping all around his body, the low sighs of a man’s voice. His partner broke away from his lips, and began kissing up his neck, whispering “How do you feel?” between kisses.  
  
    “Hot.”  
  
    And that was the last thing Gob remembered.  
  
\--------  
    It was hours later when Gob awoke, lying on the floor in the break-room, and covered roughly with a light blanket. He groaned as he awoke, and peeking under the blanket realized that he was still fully naked. How had he gotten here?  
  
    The room was less hot now, the hot tub having been unplugged and the windows opened to let out some steam. Gob barely recognized where he was, as he’d spent so little time at the Bluth Company over the years, but when he’d been there, this was the room he’d spent the most time. After all, who didn’t need a break from work every few minutes? Pulling himself off the ground, Gob struggled to slip back into his clothes, which were moist from the steam which had previously filled the air. He was even more disheveled than he’d been when arriving at the Bluth Company that day, and he felt as though he should be ashamed. He’d been told no scandals, and while he wasn’t entirely certain what had happened, he had a feeling that waking up naked at the office was probably some sort of scandal for which his family would chastise him for years to come.  
  
    With his tail between his legs he snuck from the room, only to see that the office was deserted. It must be after hours, and everyone had gone home. There was a piece of paper on the receptionist’s desk saying, “Return Hot Tub. Too hot for Office. - Carl” in big bold letters, and Gob remembered that Carl had been in the room with him. It really had been too hot for the office. At this point, Gob couldn’t afford to care any more than he already did, and he made his way back to the model home, feeling even more weary and exhausted than he’d felt in ages, a feat which he’d thought impossible. He collapsed on the couch, and this time fell asleep almost instantly, unable to bear the burdens of his waking hours for a moment longer.  
  
    Gob awoke the following morning to a blinking phone, and a sore head. Siri told him he had two new voice messages.  
  
    “Hey Franklin. We haven’t seen you in a while, and are hoping you have been okay. We’ve really missed you at the Homosexual’s Anonymous Meetings and hope to see you again soon. Remember we have a meeting tomorrow at 6pm at the Church of the Holy Eternal Rapture, and hopefully you’ll be able to make it!”  
  
    The second message was much more jarring.  
  
    “Hello?” a slurred voice cried, clearly having been drinking. “I just don’t understand, I need a friend, I have no one, I just...” The message continued on for a while, dissolving into tears, and nonsense, but Gob didn’t need to hear any more of the message to know exactly who it was from.  
  
    It was Tony.


	9. Chapter 9

    Gob’s adrenaline surged through his body, and every heart beat pounded in his head. Why was Tony calling him? Or, better yet, why was Tony drunk-dialing him? Weren’t people only supposed to drunk dial people who they cared about? People who they had regrets about? Gob had never drunk-dialed anyone (except Michael, and his mother and father, and JBJ, and there was that one time he tried to drunk dial Ann except he couldn’t remember her name.). Why was Tony calling him of all people - Tony was in love with a man, as he’d told him just days previously (hours? how long ago had it been?), so he should be calling _him_ , not Gob. Tony didn’t care about Gob.  
  
    Tony’s message was barely coherent, but Gob was able to pick out several lines. “Where is he?” in a drawn out whiny voice, “I’m so alone!” “ _I’m queer I’m here and I’m drunk,_ (wait that doesn’t rhyme)” “No one loves me, do _you_ love me?” “It was the last show why did no one I care about...” (the last words here was lost in a pile of sobs).  
      
    The last show. Gob had been religiously attending Tony’s show in costume, and that night had been the first show that he’d missed. Never again would he see that glorious bee act again, the juggling, the swallowing, the hiding, the laughter. Never again would Tony’s triumphant face beam as if he was smiling only for Gob as he emerged triumphant from the tiny beehive, without so much as a single sting. Never again would Gob sit on the edge of his seat, watching in rapt attention as Tony performed a trick he’d seen so many times before. This was the end, and he had missed it. Gob hadn’t intended to skip the final show, but he knew in his heart that had he been sound of mind the previous evening, he likely still would not have been able to find the strength to drag himself to the Gothic Castle, and stare upon Tony’s face, the face he had kissed, and gazed upon lovingly, the face that had rejected him and sent him away. Even thinking about that moment had Gob’s heart aching in a way that he’d never before thought possible.  
  
    Yet, here was this message. Tony, in his despair, had called Gob. Why? Why him? Gob was surprised that Tony even still had his number, because obviously he didn’t care about him. He had chosen to forget their evening, and had even told Gob he loved someone else.  
  
    “He must have called the wrong number,” Gob muttered to himself, thinking how easy it was for one’s finger to accidentally slip while drunk. His fingers had done many things they had not meant to while in a drunken stupor, so there was no reason why Tony couldn’t have accidentally called Gob instead of a Gary, or a Bluth instead of a Bartlett. It was a plain mistake. Plain and simple.  
  
    At least, that’s what Gob told himself. He had to tell himself this, because a small piece of him, larger than he was willing to admit, was hoping and praying that Tony had indeed meant to call him, and that he was harboring feelings for him, and that it was him he wanted to call when he was upset. Him, and nobody else. As Gob stared blankly at his phone, eyes secretly shining with hope that he was trying so hard to push back because _he didn’t even want Tony to want him, damnit_ , his finger slipped as well, even though he was completely sober. And then his hand slipped, and raised the phone to his ear. Typical sort of slipping, of course.  
    

The dial-tone rung in Gob’s ear several times, and his heart jumped each time it sounded. Then he heard it - “Hi.”   
  

 “Hi!” Gob responded enthusiastically, somehow tripping over his one-syllable word.  
  
    “....you have reached Tony Wonder...”  
  
    Gob’s finger didn’t slip this time, and he quickly and intentionally hung up the phone. It was Tony’s answering machine. It wasn’t Tony. He didn’t want it to be Tony anyway. How could he want it to be Tony? Stupid Tony. He didn’t want to talk to Tony. In fact, he never wanted to talk to Tony ever again. Ever.  
  
    As Gob made his way up the stairs of the model home, tripping slightly over a pair of women’s slippers (why were those even there? Gob hadn’t brought a woman to the model home for years.), he felt weary about the whole situation. Tony had called him, and he was at a loss as to what to do. “Nobody loves me, do _you_ love me?” His heart screamed yes, but his mind screamed no, that he couldn’t possibly. Gob didn’t know why he was going upstairs, but somehow it felt like an escape. There was no place in particular where he was going - he was just hoping to find a place to be safe. His feet were as heavy as his heart, and as he wandered around the model home, unable to find a place of sanctuary, he leaned on a wall he had never before leaned on, and suddenly it opened up.  
  
    Ahead of him was a secret room, which Gob had never been in before. It appeared that other members of his family had found it, however, judging by the books, files, and work-out magazines (Gob would have to take a look at those later). It was typical - everyone always knew about things before Gob. It was like the cabin in the woods incident all over again; not knowing about a secret room in the house was worse than knowing about a secret room in the house and never going in it.  
      
    As Gob ventured further into the room, he discovered that there were many things that could be of interest to him - more photo albums, these ones appearing more full than the album he’d examined the previous week, some documents that appeared relevant to the company, and those exercise magazines of course. Gob flipped the first photo album open, and nearly fell to the ground, as the first page boasted a fully naked picture of his parents in the throes of intercourse. Once he stopped screaming, Gob slammed the book shut. That was it. No more photo albums. Gob now seriously regretted not picking up the album instead of more forget-me-nows.  
  
    Gob thumbed tentatively through some folders, wondering what other horrors he would find. There was a folder called “Blueprints” (the secret room was clearly marked), a folder called 420 sex positions for seniors (he didn’t dare open this), and one called, “Happy Memories” (this was empty). Finally there were folders labeled with familiar names. Michael’s folder seemed to contain evidence of all his successes: things like awards, report cards, badges, pictures of him smiling proudly. Lindsay’s folder contained a few pictures of her at pageants with her participation awards and her “best hair” yearbook picture as well as some advertisements for diet pills and liposuction. Buster’s included a few pictures, and certificates from the various degrees he’d earned from his continuing studies, as well as a note about how he was the perfect Milford man; his parents must have prided that dearly. In fact, his parents must have held much more pride in their children than he had ever previously believed to have saved so much more of their lives than Gob had thought possible. It would appear they cared about them after all.  
  
    It was only after flipping through all these folders that Gob found the folder marked with his name. It was no secret that his mother wasn’t particularly fond of him, so he hesitated to open it, fearing that it would contain nothing. It seemed a little lighter than the other folders, but perhaps this was all just a figment of his imagination, brought on by the anxiety that, although he was clearly loved more than he’d thought, perhaps he was still loved a little less than everyone else. What if the folder was completely empty, and no one had cared to keep anything from his life?  
  
    The folder wasn’t empty - not at all. Gob needn’t have feared, as these folders were not in fact put together by his parents, but by a previous maid of the Bluth household who had been strangely fond of the children. Remaining blissfully ignorant of this fact, Gob’s heart soared with happiness as he saw the things that he believed had been saved by his surprisingly loving parents. There was a picture of him as a magician at Hallowe’en when he was 7, a picture of him at a talent show, holding a top hat and a baton, a picture of him at what must have been when of his first baseball games when he was a small child. The smile on little Gob’s face made a smile rise to Gob’s own face as well. He could see from the sidelines of the picture that people were looking at him happily, perhaps even with jealousy - a little boy, slightly older than him, was in the top right corner, eyes fixated on Gob, a smile creeping over his face. Gob had been good at something, and people had noticed. This was a real boost to Gob’s confidence. There were more things in the folder, like his first tooth, a lock of his hair (this was sort of creepy), and even some birthday cards that had apparently been saved.  
  
    Gob opened the first birthday card. “To Gob, love Buster,” was scrawled in child-ish writing. Gob cast this aside. “Der Gob your a gud big bruther” was on another; he was unsure which of his siblings it was from, but he hoped it was from Michael. He’d always wanted to be a good big brother to Michael. Then Gob opened one, that, for some reason had caught his attention. Inside the card was a picture of Gob with another little boy, both smiling cheekily at the camera. “Dear Gob,” the writing in the card read. “Im soo glad were best frends. Lets be 2gether 4ever” The card wasn’t signed. Gob had only the slightest recollection of this child, this “friend”, whoever he was; he clearly wasn’t someone who was still in Gob’s life, considering he didn’t even know who he was. So much for together forever. However, it wasn’t just this boy that Gob had forgotten; all of his childhood was such a blur. He remembered so little. In fact, Gob realized fairly quickly that most of his life was a blur. He wasn’t a young man anymore, he didn’t have that much time left to live a good life. He was well into his forties but he could think of very little that he’d actually accomplished. He could think of few things of which he was proud, in the past few years there were few memories that he could access period, good or bad.  
  
    Who exactly was George Oscar Bluth? If Gob was asked, he’d say he was a magician, the CEO of the Bluth company, a gentleman honey-bee farmer, an ex-stripper, the oldest child in a messed up family of four. And, Gob was a father (although not a very present one), an uncle (although not the best example for his niece and nephew), an ex-husband and ex-fiancé, a brother, a son. Yes, Gob was all those things, but they were just titles, just facts; they didn’t speak to who he really was as a person. Any fool can take a pen and write a character as one dimensional as that. Gob was a real live human, with real dreams, real hopes, real plans. Once Gob had fought to head an entire alliance of magicians, only to lose his title and reputation due to his father’s fraud and treason. He had been a man with real drive, but now the only drive he had was his limo, which was in sorry shape after the bee incident. There was a time when Gob was known for his way with the women, able to please anyone, able to charm anyone. Now Gob didn’t even want to be with a woman, and wasn’t sure he could please her even if he had the chance.  
  
    Once upon a time Gob had been the sweet little boy, smiling up at his from the pictures in his folder. Once, Gob had had friends, had memories, had missing teeth and a dream to follow. But he had lost his friends, lost his memories, filled in those gaps with crowns and bridges, and let his dreams fall to pieces. He had lost the chance to make it big with magic, charm the world, become a household name for his wonderfulness. He had even lost the chance to father the child he had not even known existed. Now he was just left with regrets. And at the bottom of all those regrets lay Tony. The problems with Tony seemed to be stopping him from moving forward. For his magician envy seven years prior, to his current state of obsession, Tony had been dominating his thoughts for years, and perhaps even longer. Gob supposed that not all of it had been that bad, but in his current state of self-loathing and depression, he needed all thoughts of Tony gone. If he stopped being in love with Tony, if he could make all his problems disappear, bury them, hide them forever, then maybe just maybe he could move on with his life. Maybe it would be better for everyone.  
          
    Gob had been mistaken many times before, but he hoped that this would not be one of those times. He still had time to denounce his love for Tony by making it to the HA meeting and proclaiming his intentions publicly. He had a chance. These people would support him into returning to the Gob Bluth he’d been before, the Gob who he was certain was the real Gob, because he’d never known anything better - a Gob who, didn’t really care to know anything better. That Gob had to fight for a lack of feelings, for an appearance of greatness but a work ethic of none, for magic that would deceive everyone and leave him feeling great and triumphant. That was the Gob he’d been for the entirety of his adult life, and that was the Gob he hoped to be again soon. If his feelings would stop holding him back, if these weak, broken little desires for kisses on the forehead, and penetrating eye contact, and Tony’s earth-shattering smile, would stop breaking his facade, maybe he could be Gob again. The Gob that was never really good enough, but at least he had something.  
  
    What Gob had right now, was nothing at all, except a drunken voice slurring in his head, “I’m so alone. I have no one at all.” And perhaps he too, felt the same way. After all, it must have been a wrong number.  The HA meeting began in two hours. He’d be there. It was his last hope. That, and Tony’s little grin.  
  
    This was going to be harder than he’d thought.  
  



	10. Chapter 10

    After freshening up slightly, Gob left the model home with a mission - a mission to be Gob again. What this meant, he still wasn’t 100% sure, but he had an idea of what it entailed, and decided to fly with that. Passing a lady on the street, he called out a rude comment, and forced a smile when she gave him an offended look. Old Gob was offensive, not a baby with lots of feelings and a pathetic nature. Once he got rid of his feelings he would be back on track to the Gob that everyone knew and occasionally tolerated.   
      
    Gob spent the entire walk to the church of the Holy Eternal Rapture being rude, cocky, and acting very unlike the Gob who had been walking around Orange County for the past few weeks. It was all an act, of course, but had his entire life not been as such? His mouth smiled and sneered while his eyes remained a bit dead and glossy, trying to hide from everything he was currently experiencing. He was on his way to renounce any love he had, which shouldn’t have been a big step, as he had spent the most of his life free from love. This should be so much easier than it felt.   
  
    As he neared the church, Gob’s nerves got the best of him, and he began muttering to himself, speaking so quietly that someone would have had to practically have been on top of him to hear the words he spoke clearly. “What if I can’t make it disappear?” he asked himself, in a silent panic. “What if, what if... what if people find out. What if I can’t change things. What if... they dig up the dirt on me.” Suddenly Gob felt a sharp pain on the side of his neck and reached up to see what was wrong. He glanced at his hand, and saw that it was bloody - he must have been bleeding; perhaps he had been attacked by an angry bug of some sort. “Too much blood on my hands,” he muttered, looking around for something to wipe the filth on. After finding an unsuspecting pedestrian's black shirt, he continued his musing. “Mom said no scandals. I can’t have a scandal. Not now. It would be bad for everyone. I have to do what’s best for the company.” It was unusual for Gob to want what was best for the company, but he really had to focus on something other than how much he really wanted to kiss Tony, and secretly hoped that Tony would call him back before the HA meeting and convince him to change his mind.   
  
    Arriving at the meeting, Gob took his seat, and watched as several people took the stand. he knew that he had to go up, and finally after a timid gentleman admitted that he found many of the men in the room attractive and was willing to go to great lengths to stop this, Gob stood up, and made his way to the front. Standing before everyone, he swallowed deeply. So many eyes were staring at him, and there was so much pressure. He had so much that was riding on this, and so much to discover about himself.  
  
    “Hi,” he said. “I’m Franklin.” This was an excellent start in Gob trying to be Gob.   
  
    “Hi Franklin,” the group replied, and Gob’s brain went into over-drive. They were all watching him. What did he say? What should he say?  
  
    The first thing that came out of Gob’s mouth was what every person had said before him. “...And I’m a homosexual.” Although the group nodded approvingly, this didn’t feel right. Was Gob really a homosexual? Gob had feelings for a man, and had enjoyed kissing another, possibly multiple others which he had forgotten with the help of a forget-me-now or six, but did that make him a homosexual? He’d still been with women.   
  
    “I’ve been with a lot of women,” Gob told the group. This was true. Gob had never kept track of the number of women he’d been with, but considering he’d stopped being able to remember who he’d been with and who he had not been with midway through high school, the number was likely quite high. This was ignoring the fact that he had done escort work, and gone through many bottles of forget-me-nows. “I have no idea how many bastard children I have, nor the names of half of these women.” Steve Holt, his only known son, had even been called a bastard by his own father, and Gob still found the entire situation very confusing and overwhelming. He still struggled to grasp why Steve had not made contact with him for his entire childhood, and he found this fact disturbing. He’d have a much easier time having a son if the son had actually been around to do all those father-son things, like playing catch. Gob and his father had played catch once, and he’d enjoyed it. He figured that if he’d had the chance to spend more time with Steve as a child, he would have played catch with him twice or maybe even three times.  
      
    “I spent time as a stripper, a hot cop, a guy who stripped for men and women, and everything in between. It was all strip, fuck, nothing real. I never felt any attachment to any of these people. Nothing ever made me stick around.” After the cum was cleaned up, and his pants were zipped, Gob had never wanted to stop and cuddle, whisper sweet nothings, and sleep, curled into the curves of another person. Never had he wanted to wake up next to someone, to eat eggs and toast, to smile at their ruffled morning hair, to kiss their lips even with their morning breath. Never before Tony. He’d done it once or twice, but he’d never really wanted to. “I got married once just because I wanted a friend.” And even that had failed, because he had never quite learned that skill. “We didn’t even consummate the marriage until months afterwards, because that’s not what I wanted! I just wanted her, my darling.....” Shoot. He never had learned her name. But he had learned that when they were daring each other, riding in shopping carts, and just having fun, that was a lot more fun than having sex with her.   
  
    All eyes were firmly on Gob, and he paused in a panic for a moment. If his nephew had been present, he would have noted that there were ten full seconds of silence before Gob spoke again, but to Gob it felt like an hour. “After a while, things changed in my life,” he said hesitantly. “My family is kind of important, and I always wanted them to love me. I always doubted that they did. But...something....happened... and things g..g..got really complicated.” Things had indeed gotten complicated, and Gob wasn’t even sure where to start. He could start with the fact that when he’d been CEO of the Bluth company previously, his incredibly homophobic mother would have never have approved of him spending time with people like Gary who worked in the office. But, he’d so badly wanted his family to love him and think of him as a good and worthy leader, that he’d ended up caving under the pressure and doing ridiculous things, proving them right by trying to prove them wrong. And here he was, CEO again, and making a mess of everything.  
  
    Gob knew where the biggest complication lay. It wasn’t in the fact that he wasn’t a very good magician,  or a proficient bee-farmer, or that he didn’t particularly have the skill-sets to manage a company, although these things were all true. Now it lay in the fact that he loved a man, and instead of being able to move on, and focus, and continue to fail at what he failed at before, he was absorbed in his lips, his eyes, the thought of him laughing and talking to him and painting pottery together and riding mechanical bulls and laughing as they rolled down hills in shopping carts. He couldn’t focus on anything except for how “same” they were, how they could laugh and just talk for hours and hours. He couldn’t even focus enough to put into words how hard this whole situation was, even though he was in a room with other men and women who had likely felt the same before. He began to stutter.   
  
    “T..t..the..the.. spiky hair and the...I c..can’t.” Gob tried. He was right: he couldn’t. He tried again. “Sh..sh...sh...sh..should th...th..the guy who’s the CEO be in love with the wrong person? Th..th..the scratch and the smooth or hairy, it doesn’t matter, and when you fuck even though it’s so wrong it’s so right.”  
  
    The attending priests for the session looked horrified.   
  
    “A..and then the betrayal and the loss and the..the...stickiness on your hands when it h...h..happens and how much it just hurts and I just....” Gob was struggling to keep things together, and as he tried to explain his heavy feelings, he was speaking quite ambiguously. The stickiness on his hands was from the shaving cream, and from the fact that he hadn’t showed yet after the love-making session, because he wanted nothing less than to wash the sweet smell of Tony’s skin and sweat off his own. However, if someone had been listening to Gob, and looking for evidence on Gob, perhaps to implicate him for some sort of crime... this would probably be a bit misleading.  
  
    “I just...want everything to disappear! I..I...I’m a magician! I’ve made things disappear. Like yachts. Even if I did just blow it up.... _But who cares_? It worked, right? It made it disappear. How it happened doesn’t matter, right? I’d do anything... I can make anything disappear.” Gob was struggling with the fact that the one thing he could not, in fact, make disappear was his feelings for Tony. This made him feel helpless and broken. “No one can find out where I am now. Wh...what’s happening. There can’t be a scandal; everyone w...w...would hate me! I’d be ruined” Things were derailing further and further and Gob could feel the darkness coming. What would people say if they knew he loved Tony? He couldn’t love Tony. He had to get rid of this and go back to being the old Gob he was. Then he could do nothing but... Gob’s thoughts were a mess, and he couldn’t process anything. It appeared as though he was going to completely break down on the stand in front of everyone.   
  
    “It’s a problem. A hu...hu...huge problem. I’ve made a huge mistake. A scandal. A...sh..sh...should I...sh...should the guy...sh...sh...what if someone digs it up... finds out I... I’m here I’m queer I’m.... sh..sh...should the...” Things were collapsing. Gob was begging to an audience who could do absolutely nothing. They couldn’t fix his problem. They couldn’t change his feelings. The whole point of Homosexuals Anonymous was to put the feelings in a box and get rid of them forever, but it didn’t work like that. It wasn’t something you could just push away, blow up, force yourself to get rid of. “I... I can’t do the...it’s already done...I can’t change it... I fucked everything up...I....”   
      
    Nothing coming out of Gob’s mouth was making any sense anymore. “I..I can’t... I can’t... c...c...c..can’t... it won’t disappear. I can’t hide from it. People are going to find out and it’s not going to...going to...going to matter anymore. I’m over. I’m..I’m... I can’t. I can’t. I can’t-can’t-can’t-can’t...”   
  
    The people in the group were starting to look quite concerned, but Gob was unable to register this, as all he felt was hot and confused. He tugged at his shirt collar, as he was warm, so warm... There was so much pressure on him. He was in front of so many people. He was so unsure of who he was anymore, and he was so... wait, what was that? As Gob tugged at his collar he felt a hard lump, and he looked down and could see, just barely, in his peripheral vision, a black dot, that looked very familiar.  
  
    “Oh god...” he muttered, realizing that somehow, once again, someone really was watching him, and he’d been bugged again. They would all know his secret. They would all know that he was having gay feelings, and that he was breaking down in public. Gob never broke down. (Actually...) He was always strong and, oh no. Everyone would know what he had done. “Sh...sh...sh..should...”      Gob felt himself fall to the ground, and there he lay for a moment. Everything was black, and everything was spinning. Now he knew who Gob was - a big baby who couldn’t hold things together. A big baby who was about to be exposed to the world for all his faults and feelings and... Gob wasn’t supposed to have feelings. He wasn’t supposed to love Tony, and wasn’t supposed to want him here with him right in that moment, to help him  How could Gob be the magician and lazy CEO he’d always wanted to be if people knew that he sometimes _felt something_?   
  
    In that moment, Gob did, indeed, feel something, and it was buzzing in his pocket. He opened his eyes, and reached in, to grab his phone, wondering who could be calling him in his moment of utter shame. It must have been whoever had been bugging him, desperate to make fun of him for how much he’d failed. As Gob opened his eyes, he saw several figures leaning over him. Was it Tony? No, no it wasn’t. It was several stern looking police officers.       “Oh, I’m fine, officers,” he tried to say, still feeling a little woozy. “Don’t worry about me.”  
     “Actually,” responded one officer, who wasn’t nearly as hot as the cops Gob was accustomed to, “we’re going to need you to come with us.”  Reaching down, he took Gob’s hand and pulled him up. “Anything you say can, and will, be held against you.” With those words, another officer came up behind him, and forced him forwards, walking out of the church of the holy eternal rapture, away from the stand, and towards the looming doors ahead.   
  
    Gob’s hand which was not currently being firmly held by the cop, had his phone in it. It was still buzzing, somehow, and despite being dragged away forcefully, he twisted it around so that he could see who was calling. He gasped. It couldn’t be...  
  
    “Tony Wonder.”  
  
    “Write down this Tony name. He may be important in this case.” Nothing could have been more true.


	11. Chapter 11

    Tony had called him back. Despite being handcuffed and pushed into a vehicle, this was all that was on Gob’s mind. Was this somehow a sign from the universe that they should be together, or that they should at the very least get back in contact? Gob still was very uneasy at the idea of a scandal or people knowing he had homosexual feelings, but the giddiness that he was currently experiencing made him think that maybe, just maybe, he and Tony could be together. This giddiness was in spite of the fact that he’d just broken down in front of a bunch of people, and was currently riding in the back of a police car. Maybe if he and Tony took turns taking forget-me-nows so they wouldn’t actually be in a relationship but could still be together to some extent, but eliminate the pesky feelings...no, that wouldn’t work. Someone would end up getting hurt, and it would probably be him. Gob really wanted to call Tony back, but figured it was a good thing that his phone was currently unaccessible, because he still figured it was a bad idea. Tony and him just couldn’t happen, even though the idea of them together made his face go all blushy and his crooked grin spread like a wave across his face.  
  
    To forget about the Tony situation, Gob decided to think about where he currently waas. Gob had been in a police car before. For some reason, however, this time felt different, probably because he was there for a reason he’d never experienced before. Actually, Gob wasn’t quite sure the reason why he was being taken to the police station. He had heard that something had been going on in the news to do with homosexuality, but he had thought that it was something about legalizing something to do with it, not making it a crime. Maybe that meant it was currently illegal? But wouldn’t that mean that Tony would have been arrested a long time ago for branding himself as a gay magician? And wouldn’t they have arrested the entirety of Homosexual’s Attendees? There were lots of gay things that Gob had seen around for years, and he’d never seen anyone get arrested for them, except that one time when a guy was completely nude in the middle of the street shouting about equality. It may not have been because of his sexuality that he’d been arrested, however.   
  
    “Uh, guys?” Gob asked loudly, hoping the police would answer him. “Where are you taking me?”  
  
    “The police station,” one cop replied.  
  
    “And...why? I didn’t think I did anything illegal.”  
  
    “We have some questions to ask you. And, we want it all on the record.”  
  
    That told Gob absolutely nothing. He really hoped that they didn’t have any questions for him about Tony because he wasn’t sure he was ready to answer those. Thankfully before too much time had passed, they arrived at the station, where Gob was unceremoniously thrown into a holding cell, his cellphone ripped from his hand, and all obvious contents removed from his pockets. With nothing to do in the cell other than sit on a cold stone bench, Gob felt his thoughts wander again. Where had the bug on his neck come from this time, and why had someone wanted to monitor him? Suddenly it hit him - _Tony Wonde_ r. He was the only logical option. That morning when he’d felt the prick on his neck, it must have been one of the bees from Tony’s act planting a bug on him, just like he’d had a bug after being stung at one of Tony’s shows. How ironic that the bugs that had monitored him had been put on him by a bug. Tony had been probably been calling him to rub it in his face that he had won, that he had finally gotten his revenge, and Gob was now in jail for....something.   
  
    Gob was now disgusted, and still wondering why he was in jail, but he didn’t have long to think over his current issues before the police came to fetch him.  
  
    “Come with me,” an officer in a baggy cop uniform said, opening Gob’s cell, and leading him by his right arm into an interrogation room. Gob was antsy about what was about to happen, but was slightly relieved when he saw a familiar face in the room.      “Busty?” Gob asked, surprised to see his youngest brother in the room, along with another officer. “What are you doing here?”  
  
    Buster looked tired, but surprisingly healthy. “Hey, brother,” he said.  He looked at the officer, and reluctantly he nodded, as though giving him permission to speak. “They think you are part of the reason why Lucille 2 is missing,” he said slowly. “And they think I’m the other part of the reason.” As Buster looked hopelessly at Gob, one of the officers whispered, “Doesn’t matter how many grilled cheese sandwiches or juice boxes we give this guy, he’s not giving us anything.”   
  
    “Oh,” Gob said. This was news to him. Also, Tony would have had no reason to turn him in to the police for the Lucille 2 incident. That just didn’t make sense. So who had bugged him?  
  
    “George Oscar,” the officer began, directing his words at Gob now.      “Gob,” Gob corrected.  
  
    “Gob,” the officer said, rolling his eyes slightly. “Security tapes at the scene of the crime seem to indicate that your brother played a serious role in the disappearance of Lucille Austero.  Although we have no specifics at the moment, Buster Bluth will remain in our custody until more information is discovered.”  
  
    “It’s actually not that bad,” Buster said, scratching his head with his good hand. “They give me good food, and don’t order me around too much.”  
  
    The two officers looked at each other knowingly, and one grabbed Buster by the arm, ready to escort him out. “Now, we have some questions for you,” the other said, sitting down at the table across from Gob. “Note, anything you say here can be used against you in a court of law.”  
  
    Gob nodded, wondering what was going to happen to him now.  
  
    “Now, I’ve been told that you’re a magician,” the officer began, looking carefully at Gob.  
  
    “Yes, that’s right,” Gob said, and smiled. “I haven’t done a show for a while, but I’m just waiting for my flame to come back!” As Gob said these words, he rose to his feet, and with a flourish, sprayed lighter fluid all over the desk in front of him. This caused quite the commotion, and several guards immediately grabbed Gob, held him down, and frisked him, retrieving several scarves, a dead dove, 5 rolls of pennies, a small box of mice, and the Tony Wonder mask from his body.   
  
    The second officer had returned by now, and both shook their heads despairingly at the contents of Gob’s magical items; Gob’s eyes, however, looked longingly at the mask. Together or apart, there was one of the masks that Tony and Gob had so lovingly removed that evening, exposing who they truly were to each other. With all the eyes on Gob, he felt uncomfortable; how could he possibly live a life where everyone knew that he’d been with a man? How could he possibly remove the mask in his life that hid who the real Gob was underneath, if he could even figure out who that was?  
  
    Gob had little time to process this, as the officers quickly asked him another question, looking exasperated. “We’ve heard you like to make things disappear. Can you tell us more about that?”  
  
    “Well,” Gob started, “My biggest disappearing act, besides making my dick disappear into someone’s body,” (the officers cringed), “was when I made our yacht disappear during Spring Break 2005.”  
  
    The officers had, of course, heard about this incident, as they had thoroughly looked into Gob’s history, yet they still asked, “And how did you make this happen?”  
  
    “Well...” Gob said hesitantly, “A magician never reveals his secrets!” He paused for a moment, and then exclaimed excitedly, “ _I blew it up. I blew up the yacht. I_ t was perfect.”  
  
    The officer seemed to have an idea. “Did you claim insurance money on it?”  
  
    “Of course I did!” He hadn’t. Despite this being part of his initial ruse, Gob had never, in fact, filed the claim, his trick leaving a huge hole in his pocket as well as the boat. The officers seemed quite intrigued by this, writing down the information, muttering, one muttering, “possible fraud?”  
  
    “Have you ever made anything else disappear?”  
  
    “Well, once an old man stole away in my trunk and then died. Does that count? And another time my ex-wife’s seal bit off my brother’s hand after I gave it a taste for human flesh. We never saw it again.” Gob paused. “Is that disappearing?”  
  
    The police officers just blinked. “Do you have any particular places you like to hide things when making them disappear as an illusion?”  
  
    “Well, I used to have my Aztec Tomb...” Gob thought for a minute, “But they confiscated it from me after that issue with the old man. And then that boulder that I used for my Amazing Jesus trick! But I haven’t seen that in months. Now things just go...wherever.”  
  
    Nothing Gob was saying was particularly helpful to the officers, so they paused, and then the interrogating officer said plainly, “Gob, do you know why we brought you here today?”  
  
    “No.”  
  
    “We have strong suspicions that you had a role in the disappearance of Lucille Austero, just like your brother. He frankly doesn’t seem smart enough to have done the deed on his own, and we have been watching you carefully, and are aware of your past relationship with the victim. Not only did you once date her, but she also held the role in your company which you have coveted for years.” The officers’ eyes seemed to be scrutinizing Gob, and he wiggled uncomfortably. All this was true, and in that moment Gob wondered why he had never considered disposing of Lucille 2 himself. That being said, he had, of course, not been involved in this disappearance whatsoever.   
  
    “Where were you on the evening of Cinco de Cuatro?” the officer asked pointedly.  
  
    “I...I had plans with a friend,” Gob answered. This was true. But it was so much more than just that. Although the words came out of his mouth so nonchalantly, his eyes showed the darkness inside. He had had plans with Tony Wonder. At the time when Lucille Austero had gone missing, Tony had been in the throes of passion with a man who would soon forget him. Tony. His Tony.   
  
    “Who was this friend? We may need to check your alibi for the evening, to make sure you were where you said you were.”  
  
    “He was just a friend, okay?” Right. Just a friend. “It doesn’t matter.”  
  
    “Actually, Gob, it may matter very much. We need concrete proof of where you were that evening if you wish to be declared innocent in the matter, and right now we need you to provide that. Can you provide a firm alibi of your whereabouts on that evening?”      Gob froze. Tony Wonder had taken a forget-me-now, and the other girl who had been there was completely unreachable considering he couldn’t even remember her name. And Michael, he’d known where Gob was that night, but Gob had also fed him a forget-me-now. There was absolutely nothing that could prove where Gob had been that evening.  
  
    “Yes I can,” Gob said, not sure where he was going to get the alibi from. “I definitely have a strong alibi.”   
      
    “Did you see your younger brother that evening?” the officer asked, intending to return to the alibi later.   
      
    “Yes! Yes I did,” Gob answered enthusiastically. The officer was actually referring to Buster, whom Gob had not encountered that evening, however Gob misunderstood. “He was at the model home and I saw him and we had an unfortunate encounter due to all the recent...unpleasantness.”   
  
    “At the model home?”  
  
    “Yeah, that’s where I was.”  
  
    The officer scribbled this down, speculating that perhaps Lucille Austero could be hidden at said model home. “And, did he appear to be guilty, or like he was hiding something?”  
  
    “Yes!” Gob said. “I wanted to try to make him feel worse but he wouldn’t tell me what had happened.”  
      
    “Very interesting,” the officer replied. “And is the model home where you met your friend?”  
  
    “Yes.”  
  
    “Did anyone know you were meeting him or her.”  
  
    “Yes.”  
  
    “Who?”  
  
    “I can’t remember her name. I always forget it. Umm..”  
  
    “Well, who is she? Someone we might be able to find?”  
      
    “Her? There’s nothing specific about her. She’s bland as bread.” Actually, bread was a whole lot more exciting, especially when Tony was pulling it from the depths of his chest.  
  
    “So there’s no actual record of where you were that night?” The officer looked skeptical.  
  
    “No, there is! I definitely have an alibi. I can get it for you!” Gob insisted, believing he was lying, and therefore speaking quite convincingly. Then suddenly he remembered the very thing that was supposed to make his plan work that evening - the cameras. There was footage of everything that had happened. Every kiss, every thrust, every snuggle, was captured on camera. And, if he knew anything about those cameras, there would be time stamps. He could prove where he’d been that evening...if he was willing to show the police force that he had made a huge mistake that he didn’t want to be a mistake. Suddenly realizing that he was telling the truth, he got incredibly nervous and began to back-pedal. “I mean, there’s totally a way, I can kind of prove where I was that night, I mean there’s definitely some one who can say I was there, and it’s definitely a thing and sh..sh...should I really have to prove it? I m...mean I didn’t do anything to Lucille Austero. She was pr..pretty cool. I wouldn’t do anything to her.”   
  
    The officers looked at Gob, and then at each other. One nodded at the other, and then spoke. “Okay, Gob. I think that’s all the questions we have for you for now. We would like to keep you here at the station for a bit, and we’ll let you know if and when we can let you go.”  
  
    Gob frowned, but accepted his temporary fate. The guards that were also in the room led him out of the interrogation hall and into a new cell. This cell was occupied by someone else as well.   
  
    “Hey brother,” the occupant said, gently massaging Gob’s shoulders as he entered.  
  
    “Buster!” hissed Gob. “How long have you been in here?”  
  
    “A few weeks,” Buster said, shrugging. “They keep trying to get me talk, but I really don’t know what they want me to say! I think that they’re scared of me because of my hand!” As he spoke, Buster raised his super hand in the air and Gob cringed and backed away.  
  
    ‘Yes...aren’t we all.” Gob winced at the thought of the hand. “Why haven’t you tried to get out? You could escape with that hand, couldn’t you?” Speaking of escaping, Gob was currently regretting not having swallowed a key recently that would allow him to escape his temporary cell.  
  
    “I could,” Buster said. “But they give me juice and bagels and grilled cheese sandwiches, and I don’t have to answer to mother. I guess it could be worse.” He smiled. “All the juice just keeps me really excited.”  
  
    “So did you do it?” Gob asked.  
  
    “Do what?”  
  
    “The thing with Lucille 2. Did you mess her up?”  
  
    Buster looked offended. “I’d never do anything to hurt Lucille 2!” he said. “And quite frankly I don’t understand how anyone could. She’s just so nice. She’s like a mother.”  
  
    “So why do they think you did it?” Gob asked, genuinely curious.   
    

“There’s a video tape, with a missing time-stamp that shows me there, and then shows me there with all this...blood. But I have no idea what happened! It’s all a blur. It’s like she just, disappeared.” There was that word again. Disappear. Gob was so confused. Hadn’t that been what he had been trying to do with his feelings for Tony?   
  
    Gob sat down on the bench in the cell for a moment, while Buster absentmindedly told him stories from his adventures in the station, which Gob didn’t care to hear. All he could think about was what he was going to do now. Tony. The video-tape. He was entirely innocent in this situation, but the only way he could prove this was by showing the officers the video evidence, because nothing else could vouch as to where he’d been. Was he even legally allowed to show that though, without getting permission from Tony, seeing as it was, well, rather graphic? Would the police take an illegal video as evidence? And, how could he ever get consent from Tony, if Tony didn’t even know the tape existed? Oh god. What was he going to do? Everything was so dark. Buster kept talking, but Gob heard less and less of it, as music filled his ears, and darkness overtook him.   
  
    He was only broken out of his silence by a familiar voice. “Gob? You’re free to go.”  
  
    Gob turned, and gasped at who he saw in the sexiest cop outfit he’d seen in the station so far.


	12. Chapter 12

    “I...I didn’t know you were a hot cop!” Gob gasped, looking the figure up and down.  
  
    “Well, technically, I’m not,” the cop laughed, smiling at Gob. “Well, I guess I’m hot, and a cop, but I’m not a stripper like you were. Although, I did order my outfit from them, because all the outfits here were a little too baggy. It’s like there’s no fashion taste in the world of police!”  
  
    Gob laughed for a moment, having thought the same thing about the outfits of the police who had questioned him. Then he frowned. “But, what are you doing here?”  
  
    “I told you, I work here. I’m a police officer for the OCPD.”  
  
    “But, I thought you worked for my family. For me!” Gob was confused. And slightly offended.   
  
    The cop sighed. “You’re right Gob. Sort of. Listen, follow me. You really are being released now, so I’ll take you to a room to retrieve your stuff, and do my best to explain everything.”  
  
    Gob glanced at Buster, who was now snoring heavily on the bunk in the room, swallowed deeply, and followed the cop out. “You know,” he said, “I don’t really know how much I trust you right now. There was some recent...unpleasantness. And quite frankly, I feel like you may not have been who I thought you were.”  
  
    The cop clearly tried to keep a straight face, but his facade was broken slightly, as though trying to restrain some emotion. “I’ll explain everything. Just... give me some time.” He opened the door to a room that had nothing other than a concrete walls, two chairs, and a table which held Gob’s stuff which had been confiscated, and beckoned Gob inside.  
  
    Gob followed, uncharacteristically quiet, and quickly picked up his belongings and began to store them back in his coat. “You know, I didn’t do it,” he said to the cop. “Maybe I would have hurt her if I’d thought of it, but I didn’t! And I kind of like her. She treated me well sometimes. Just as long as we weren’t together in public.”  
  
    The cop sighed. “I know,” he said. He seemed at a loss of what to say.      Gob spoke instead. “And, I don’t even know why they think I did it. Me? Me? What did I ever do that made me look guilty?”  
  
    “Gob,” the cop said. “I...” He squirmed slightly, and then stepped closer to Gob, standing their awkwardly for a second, before leaning forward and kissing Gob’s forehead. “This room isn’t bugged,” he said thoughtfully. “Lots of cops use this place to hook-up, and stuff. But that’s not... um...Sit down. I’ll do my best to explain.”  
      
    Gob sat obediently, wondering how everything could possibly be explained. Here he was at the police station, being questioned for a crime he didn’t do, having to find an alibi for that evening, having to deal with his feelings for Tony and now... well. There was also that whole scandal issue at the Bluth Company, and he was currently staring into the very face of it.  
      
    “So, I’m a police officer,” Carl stated, taking a seat across from Gob. He looked slightly at the ground before meeting Gob’s eye. “I was assigned to your family a while back, because, let’s be honest, there’s a lot of deceit and controversy there. So I’ve been watching you and researching all of you for a while. The whole family is...very weird. There’s a lot to understand, and I still think I don’t really get it all.”  
  
    “We’re complicated,” Gob agreed, despite his pounding heart. Carl had been spying on them? On behalf of the police? What else did he not know about Carl?   
  
    “Yes, yes you are. And I have to be really honest with you Gob, as I did my research, everything that interested me, that sucked me in, came down to you. I find you really interesting, Gob. Really interesting.” Why were Carl’s eyes penetrating into Gob’s? “I wasn’t lying about any of that. The magic, the stripping, the drug-dealing, the CEO, the music, everything, I love every bit of it.”   
  

 “Well, I’m kind of awesome,” Gob said in the humblest way he could.   
  
    “That, you are,” Carl agreed, frowning slightly. “I promise, Gob, that I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I really wanted to get close to you. But, I had to follow orders, and I swear, I figured nothing would happen.”  
  
    Gob was confused. “Wait. What are you saying?”  
  
    “I’m saying, Gob, that I’m the reason why you’re here. They asked for someone to check in on you specifically, after Buster was incarcerated, and I volunteered. I thought it would be a chance to get close to you. You’re so...fascinating.” Carl swallowed heavily. “And, I really do like you.”  
  
    “I really do..like...” Gob wasn’t able to respond. He wasn’t really sure what he really liked, but it seemed like the correct response. “Uh.. What were we talking about again?”  
  
    Carl swallowed again. “Gob, I don’t know how to be more obvious here. I’m the one who bugged you. I planted a bug on you, well, two actually, and that’s why they found you. I didn’t think anything would happen though! I didn’t think you were guilty! I didn’t think... at all.”  
  
    Gob wasn’t sure how to process this. “You...bugged me? Now people know my secrets? Because of you?” For some reason he wasn’t descending into darkness. He was just confused.  
  
    “I’m sorry Gob. Really, I just wanted to get close to you. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I’m so sorry there’s a mess now.” Carl bit his lip. “I don’t think you actually killed Lucille Austero, but the department says you said some pretty weird stuff.”    

 “Of course I didn’t kill her,” Gob responded, a little unsure of how Carl was looking at him. “And of _course_ it wasn’t meant to happen this way. You were supposed to let me live my life. Not make it go all _stupid_.”  
  
    “Well, I’m really sorry. But if you really didn’t do it, you must have an alibi, right Gob? There must be a way to prove it wasn’t you! And I’ll try to vouch for your innocence, but at this point you’re going to have to find your alibi, no matter what it is, or I’m afraid they’re going to incarcerate you. They’re letting you go in hopes that you’ll go move the body or something and they can prove you guilty. I’m only telling you this because I really believe it wasn’t you, and quite frankly, I owe you.” Carl was still staring at Gob with this puppy-dog look in his eyes, but Gob’s thoughts were on the alibi.  
  
    “What if my alibi is really embarrassing or I’m not exactly on good terms with the person  I was with that evening?” he frowned. If he only had an alibi that wasn’t essentially a gay sex tape, that would be perfect.   
  
    “Would you rather give a very embarrassing alibi, or spend weeks or months in jail?” Carl asked. This was a good question. Gob had been in jail before, and had not enjoyed it, however he wasn’t sure how it would compare to the embarrassment of the situation. “Because, that’s what will happen if you can’t provide an alibi. I’m on the inside, and I’ve been told that if you don’t get your alibi in within five days, the police will take you back here, and there won’t be any easy way to get out this time.”  
  
    “Well, _that won’t be a problem_.” Gob lied. It would be a problem. Quite a large one, in fact.   
  
    “Good,” Carl said. He smiled sympathetically. “Again, Gob, I’m so so sorry. We’re taking too long in here, so I can’t really explain much more. The other police might get suspicious. I wish I could say that I could help you, but I really can’t. I still care about you though, and you know, if you don’t hate me now, I’d love to meet up after you get this sorted out. Here, grab your stuff, and I’ll escort you out. We’ll make it look like you put up a little bit of a fight.”  
  
    Gob was at a loss for words. He picked up his pennies, his dead dove (why had they saved it?), his wallet, his magic supplies, his keys, and just glanced at Carl. His face was so sweet, and so sad looking. He’d liked Carl. Carl was a good guy, even if this was all his fault. He couldn’t hate Carl, with his puppy-dog face, and his... oh god. As Carl stood up in his police uniform, his tight, hot cop police uniform, Gob’s eyes wandered slightly, lingering over the body.   
  
    “Well, thanks for nothing, Carl,” he said, although his eyes showed differently. “I’ll... I’ll be around.” He swallowed back any lust he felt. “By the way,” he said thoughtfully, “What happened that day in the hot tub? I...may have passed out.”  
  
    “Well,” Carl said, “I put a bug on you. You passed out. I carefully removed you from the hot tub, and covered you with a towel. I didn’t do anything.... bad... if you’re wondering.”  
  
    Gob nodded. Maybe this was slightly less of a scandal if nothing happened. He looked at Carl, and their eyes met.   
  
    “And, of course, we kissed.”   
         

    Gob swallowed deeply. Yes, of course they had.  
  
    He’d also kissed Tony.   
  
    The moment was interrupted by a loud voice outside.  “Carl, are you done harassing the suspect?”  
  
    Carl sighed quietly, so only Gob could hear it. “Yes. Just roughing him up before we let him go. You know what it’s like!” he yelled back to the man, and with a gruffness in his voice that Gob hadn’t heard before. “Hang in there,” he whispered to Gob, leaning in and pecking him gently on the lips, before shoving him forward and out the door. “Go and be free.”  
  
    It was in a daze that Gob walked from the police station, and home to the model home. How could he be free with this heavy weight on his shoulders? Despite the fact that Carl was being so sweet, he still had the problem that he needed to decide whether or not to give the police his alibi. Prison would be bad - he could be stabbed by someone like White Power Bill (who had probably, himself, been stabbed by now), he might be forced into non-consensual gay sex, and he might not see Tony again. It was funny how, after all this time of denying that he loved Tony, of trying to convince himself that he would be best off without him, one of his biggest fears was losing him. This made no sense, because, for all he knew he didn’t even have him to lose. Yet, somewhere on his phone, which was in his pocket, but far too frightening to check, sat the message from Tony from earlier that day. What had Tony wanted to say?  
  
    It didn’t matter. In fact, as Gob entered the model home, and his phone lingered over his phone, which brightly flashed, “New Voice Message”, he cringed. Looking at the blinking phone, and feeling ill from the implications the message might have, in an act of spontaneity he deleted the message. “Now I don’t have to worry!” he said to himself, and immediately began to worry. Now he had no message to obsess over and listen to a thousand times, but he did have a message that he could create in his head in a million different ways:  
  
    “Hey Gob - I remembered! We had sex! It was great!”   
  
    “Hey Gob... Never call me again.”  
  
    “Hey Gob - _guess what_ \- I’m the straight magician now! Yeah, sorry about that.”  
      
    “Hi Gob - you called me? Why?”  
  
    “Hi Gobie - It’s Tony! You still on for our sex date tonight?”  
      
    If Gob could have revived the message that he had deleted, he would have done so, just moments after his fingers had pushed the button, but alas, it was too late. Now all he still had to figure out what to do about the sex tape.   
  
    It was almost midnight, and as Gob struggled to figure out what to do, he poured himself a drink, and then another. There had to be a way to determine the correct course of action. He decided to flip a coin, but forget to choose whether heads or tails meant to get the tape, and therefore argued with himself over what each result meant he should do. When this failed, he grabbed Franklin and tried to get him to decide on his behalf. Unfortunately Franklin kept giving Gob mixed answers, which resulted in a shouting match, and finally Franklin being thrown across the room. Gob even tried spinning his empty Mike’s Hard Lemonade bottle, but didn’t have any idea what the results meant, except in a childish kissing game, so that failed miserably.  
  
    “I wonder what I should do,” he thought aloud, feeling quite uncertain and broken.  
  
    As Gob sat dejectedly on the floor of the living room of the model home, he suddenly heard a strange noise from upstairs. The floorboards creaked, and he heard footsteps. Suddenly a door slammed, and Gob realized what he’d just said.  
  
    “Tony?” he called excitedly. “Are you there?” He’d never thought he’d be so excited to hear from Tony, but his heart raced in his chest, and he felt as though he was going to explode. “Tony? Tony?”  
  
    When Tony didn’t surface, Gob decided to make his way upstairs to find him. Tony couldn’t hide from him forever. As he leaped joyfully from stair to stair, he cried out, “Oh, I wonder where he could be.” A big smile swept across his face as he anticipated Tony surfacing, however, that moment never came. It was with a deflating grin that Gob thrust each door of the second floor of the model home open, “wonder”ing aloud, but finding each room empty. The last door he tried was a room that was so familiar to him, and that brought back many memories. Yes Gob had avoided his bedroom ever since the cinco de cuatro when he and Tony had discovered each other in the room.  
  
    “Tony?” he said quietly. “I wonder if that was you.”  
  
    It wasn’t Tony. But whoever it was who was in the model home, also wasn’t in that room. And as Gob looked at the bed, still unmade, and at the crumpled sheets, and the broken vase, he took a deep breath, feeling very overwhelmed. Up on the wall, mounted high in the corners of the rooms, were the cameras, and Gob felt his breath catch in his chest. These cameras were his path to freedom from jail, but they would stop him from other sorts of freedom. If he watched these tapes, if he gave these tapes to the police, then he would not be free from his feelings, free from facing the fact that this had really happened.   
  
    Gob wasn’t a brave man. Sure, he played with the sword of destiny, blew up a yacht, and  took care of bees, but this was all bravado, nothing real. Gob had screamed like a child every time his bee stung him, wept like a baby every time someone managed to hurt his feelings, and complained for months after every release from the hospital. Gob wasn’t into climbing mountains, or fighting bears, and to be entirely honest he was rather frightened of being along in a house, even though this was something he’d grown accustomed to. But, in this moment, Gob took a deep breath, moved the chair from the corner of the room, still fresh with memories, underneath one of the three cameras from “To Entrap a Local Predator.” He swallowed deeply as he reached up, and removed the camera from the wall, cradling it in his arms.   
      
    It was time to finally be brave.


	13. Chapter 13

Holding the camera in his hand, Gob swallowed deeply. He was holding so much, and so little at the same time. The electrical cords, ripped so haphazardly from the wall, hung like the pain ripped from his heart, yet Gob felt accomplished. He had taken a step towards clearing his name, and perhaps accepting that something very serious and very life-changing had happened on Cinqo de Cuatro. In his mind, his bravery was done for the day, but in truth, he subconsciously took things a step farther; he laid himself in the bed where he and Tony had made love, still grasping the camera in his arms, and allowed himself to fall asleep. This bed held many memories, some happy, some difficult, but Gob allowing himself to sleep in such a place showed more acceptance than he was even capable of realizing.   
      
    As Gob slipped into a deep slumber, it seemed that his mind knew exactly where he was, as his sleeping consciousness was filled with one person and one person only: Tony. As he dreamt, he cycled through many memorable moments with Tony.  
  
\----  
   _“So Gob, what do you want to paint?”_  
  
 _Gob giggled gleefully. “Look at this little owl,” he laughed. “His eyes are so wide! He reminds me a little of you!”_  
  
 _Tony laughed. “What about this mug! Perfect for drinking coffee together!”_  
  
 _Gob grin spread across his face. “I’d love to drink coffee with you.”_  
  
 _“Same!” Suddenly Tony noticed something. “What about this..._  
  
 _“Candy...”_  
  
 _“Bean...”_  
  
 _“Dish?” they both said together. Both hands reached for the gifts, and as their fingers brushed one another, they smiled shyly._  
  
 _\------_  
 _“Gobie I’m so glad we decided to grab these shopping carts! You always have the best ideas!”_  
  
 _“I love riding you... I mean with you!” Gob replied with delight. And, together they rushed down the hill, shouting and howling with amusement._  
  
 _\------_  
  
 _“So, what’s your favourite flavour?” Tony asked Gob._  
  
 _Tony was talking about pies, as that’s what he was currently eyeing behind the counter, but all Gob could think about what what Tony’s lips would taste like. He bet he used cherry lip balm. That seemed like what a gay guy would wear._  
  
 _“Cherry!” he replied, fittingly, and with a cheeky smile, Tony reached behind the counter, and grabbed two pies. Handing one to Gob, they both ran from the bakery, laughing at the not-so-clever ruse in which they were both partaking. It was all silliness - but it was their silliness._  
  
 _\----_  
 _Riding the mechanical bull had been fun, but as Gob and Tony lay in a pile beneath the bull, doubled up in laughter, something felt so right. As their bodies connected in all the right places, Gob felt the words slip from his mouth, “Don’t worry, it’s just the dove moving around.”_  
  
 _The dove had been flattened by the fall._  
  
 _\-------_  
  
 _Gob and Tony had done many of the same things as Gob and his ex-wife, but they hadn’t needed dares to urge one another forward. They were so enthused on life that whenever one suggested an activity, the other shouted, “Same!”_  
  
 _So when Tony said he wanted to go to the chapel, hoping to gorge himself on holy wine as sacrilegiously as possible, Gob responded enthusiastically._  
  
 _“I’ve always wanted to get gay married!”_  
  
 _“Same!” Tony responded equally enthusiastically by habit._  
  
 _\-----_  
  
 _Gob’s eyes flickered back and forth between the priest and Tony._  
  
 _“Haven’t I seen you before? Are you the escalating dare guy?” the priest asked._  
  
 _“No...” replied Gob, with an uncharacteristic giggle._  
  
 _“You two look very in love, but unfortunately for you that’s still illegal here. Sorry.”_  
  
 _Was that really how they looked? Gob sure was holding Tony’s arm tightly. Their eyes met, and Gob thought he saw disappointment in Tony’s eyes. Or, was that just hunger?_  
  
 _\----_  
  
 _“That was...wow,” Tony sighed, his naked body collapsed besides Gob. “You sure know how to gay-sex...I mean, normal sex, Gob.”_  
  
 _Gob smiled. “You sure know how to normal sex, Tony.”_  
  
  
\----  
  
    Gob smiled in real life too, as the memories flowed over him, and his arms wrapped tightly around the camera which he’d removed from the wall. The sheets still smelled like Tony. It was sort of nice. Things were alright, maybe. He’d had some really great memories with Tony. So many smiles, and laughs, and the sex..Oh yeah. That’s what was on the camera. Gob’s brain awoke with a start as he remembered what he was holding, and everything slipped out of his sleepy state and back into reality. He was going to give this tape, this glorious, horrible tape, to the police, thus changing everything forever. Well, it was scary if he actually handed in the tape. Had he actually decided to hand in the tape? Gob realized that this decision may have actually been braver than he actually really was, and that he probably should watch the tape before he handed it in, in case something was horribly bad in it.  
  
    Gob fiddled with the camera for a while, but couldn’t figure out how to turn it on. There seemed to be no casing to hold a tape, and nothing seemed to indicate playback. There were no buttons, and no obvious switches, besides the one place where the cord hooked into the wall. Very confused, Gob decided to call his brother who, despite annoying in his sense of superiority, usually could help out.  
  
    “ _Michael,_ ” said Gob enthusiastically.  
  
    “Gob?” a very tired voice answered. “It’s 5 in the morning. Why are you calling me now?”  
      
    “Guess what!” Gob left no time for Michael to guess, which was probably a good thing, because he was far to exhausted to respond. “I got arrested too!”  
  
    Gob had caught Michael’s attention. “Oh no,” he said, fearing the worst. “What did you do now?”  
  
    “Nothing! They though I was involved with Lucille 2’s disappearance. _Can you imagine that_?”  
      
    “Well, they think I am too, so yes, I can.” Michael sounded frustrated. He often sounded frustrated at Gob.  
      
    “Well, I wasn’t. I was here, at the model home when it happened, and I have this camera,” Gob told Michael quickly. “Some stupid show was filming here and I think the camera was going when I was here? How do I get the tape out of the camera?”  
  
    “Is it a security camera?” Michael yawned.  
  
    Gob looked carefully and saw a label. “To Entrap a Local Predator, Security Camera 07734 - B,” he read aloud. “Does that mean yes?”  
  
    “Yes,” Michael responded. “And that means all the information can be found at the company’s headquarters, and there is no internal tape.”  
  
    “Oh. I knew that,” Gob lied. “And where’s the headquarters?”  
  
    “Is it labeled?” Michael’s voice was very condescending.  
  
    “Return to ‘Entrap a Local Predator’, on Apolena Avenue,” Gob read aloud.  
  
    “And there you have it,” Michael responded. “Now, did you really need my help?”  
      
    Gob had really needed Michael’s help. “Of course not, Michael,” he told him. “I just like to make you feel needed sometimes.”  
  
    “Well, next time you want to make me feel needed, please don’t do it at 5am,” Michael responded. “Bye Gob.”  
  
    As Michael hung up the phone, he muttered something about whether or not there was any security footage of him from the evening of the cinquo de cuatro that could prove his innocence. Gob quickly realized that said footage would prove him guilty of roofie-ing his brother, and decided that he must destroy this video as well. That was the only way he could escape his time in prison, considering someone had once told him that force-feeding mind-altering drugs to other people was a felony.   
  
    It may have only been 5am, but Gob made his way over to the “To Entrap a Local Predator” headquarters, feeling motivated for one of the few times in his 40-odd years. For legal reasons I cannot tell you how Gob got into the building, or how he got out with the security camera footage from the cinco de cuatro from both his bedroom and the living room, but he did indeed get ahold of what he required. This was in the form of four DVDs, which was not how To Entrap a Local Predator decided to keep their footage archive; Gob had had to burn the information to disk from the official computer, and he hoped he had not left too many fingerprints, because there was a chance that this could be considered a crime as well. Gob also took a disk from the DVD player in the breakroom; this particular disk was actually in the DVD player labeled - “gay porn from cameras”. Gob decided that watching this disk might be helpful if he were to watch his own accidental sex tape, because perhaps then he could tell whether or not he and Tony were better at sex than the other people on the tape.   
  
    Returning home, Gob felt as though he was being followed. This was ridiculous though. He had not just done nothing illegal, and he was not a suspect for any major crimes in the area. The truck that was following closely behind him was clearly just a truck for... dog washing. A lot of dogs needed washing at 7am; that’s when they decided to come home after rolling around in the dirt all night.  If Gob had a dog, he likely would have needed to take his dog to a dog-cleaning place too. He wondered if Tony liked dogs. Gob thought dogs were kind of cool, but they seemed like a lot of work, and like they might be too hard to train to use in a magic act. The seal, which was already trained, had had enough problems. The truck was dipping down a side street anyway. It clearly wasn’t following him.  
  
    When Gob sat down in the living room of the model home, holding the disks, he felt a little sick. Gob wasn’t certain that the only time he’d been with a man was the night of cinco de cuatro, in fact he suspected he had done it before, however the fact that he was holding hard proof of it in his hand was still rather disconcerting. He still hadn’t spoken to Tony, and was both anticipating it and dreading it, but for now he had to focus on the disks at hand, quite literally. Perhaps Tony would never allow him to pass in the disks, but maybe just maybe if he watched them, then that would give him something to help him...figure things out. Maybe if he watched the tape if would be so horrible that he would never want to be with Tony ever again and all the feelings would be gone, and they wouldn’t be so _same_ anymore. That would be okay, right?  
  
    Still feeling a small bit of bravery, Gob slipped the first DVD into the player, and with a deep breath, pressed play. Every moment was captured. Gob watched as he first entered the room, turned the lights off (although, the camera had a night mode, so everything was still visible, though strangely green and unarousing), and waited for Ann to join him. Gob couldn’t see the excitement on his face behind his mask, but he remembered it vividly. When Tony entered the room, Gob knew that things were hard, perhaps in more than one sense, but as their lips first met, and then as the masks were removed, as well as some other articles of clothing, Gob felt a wave of happiness sweep over him. There was no sound on the film, but anyone in the model home could have heard Gob’s quick intakes of breath, and perhaps a few little sobs as we watched the moments of two weeks previous unveil. For the following 3 hours and 28 minutes he sat in rapt attention, staring at the screen, pausing only to switch to the second DVD.  
  
    Gob loved when he saw the two men snuggle together, completely naked. He loved when they turned on the lights, clearly talking about what had just happened, and how Tony had been unable to keep his eyes off of his. He even loved watching as the two napped together, post-sex; even though nothing eventful was happening, and the quality of the tape was pretty bad and from an awkward angle, there was something he really loved about seeing their bodies intertwined in sleep, even though the nap had lasted 37 minutes. He never got tired of it. And then when they’d kissed again, knowing fully what they were doing, it was beautiful. Even Gob had to admit that they weren’t too bad at having gay sex. It was better than straight-bait, even though the camera angles left much to be desired. He definitely shed a few tears, especially when after 3 hours and 20 minutes, he left the bedroom, and Tony followed suite, and he knew exactly what had happened. Tony never re-entered the bedroom, and neither had he. Until that morning. Gob watched the footage of the empty room until the DVD ended, feeling a sinking in his heart.   
  
    The video was over, but the situation wasn’t. There was a Tony-sized hole that needed to be filled, and Gob wasn’t sure what he would do if Tony wasn’t there to fill it. No bottle, no breasts, no drugs, no amount of candy beans, could fill the gaping he was feeling as well as Tony. Something special had been there, and nothing else could fill it the same. Perhaps bees could contort themselves to the shape, but in the end, the only thing buzzing would be Gob’s sadness. It was then that Gob truly realized just how unhappy he really was with things, and how much things needed to change. Should he call Tony? Was he really that brave.   
  
    A thud at the window behind him drew Gob out of his thoughts and made him turn his head. No one was there. No one was ever there. Gob needed to make some changes. What those would be, however, he wasn’t quite sure.   
  



	14. Chapter 14

Gob had two options of what to do; he could give the disk to the police (even though he kind of wanted to keep it - perhaps he could burn a copy!), or he could call Tony and ask him what to do. Giving the disk to the police would clear his name, but would also out him as being gay-ish, and Gob was pretty sure that even though there was no audio in the video that the faces he’d made at Tony were pretty incriminating in showing that he had.... _feelings_. If he called Tony, that would also be a problem, because it would be scary and could possibly give him no answers whatsoever and it was what he really wanted to do, so that put it completely out of the question. Even though it was one of the two options.   
  
Yes, Gob had two viable options, yet he chose a third: to hide. How would the police ever find him? He could hide really well, make himself  _disappear_ , just like the yacht and Mr. Milford, and his father, and himself in the boulder, and then he’d be safe until the whole Lucille Austero thing blew over. Temporarily forgetting about the cameras which were wired over the entire Bluth household, Gob made his way up the stairs, and into the attic, hoping that it would be even more difficult to find him there than it had been to find him in the storage locker, where he had actually wanted to be found. He figured that the attic would be a better hiding spot than the storage locker, although the reasons as to why he thought this were quite debatable. At the time of the storage locker incident, the only person looking for him had been his fiancée, who had thought he was a runaway groom, and therefore hadn't looked very hard. It was natural, however, that Gob would think that no one would look for him, because in all his forty-some years, no one ever really had. Except, of course, the police, who were looking for him right at that very moment and were currently casing the model home in case of suspicious activity.   
  
In the attic, Gob screamed when he realized he was not alone. Sitting unexpectedly at the table was his close friend, Franklin, whom Gob was confident he had left in the living room. Shrugging, he picked Franklin up anyway and gave him a big hug.  
  
“I don’t want to be gay, Franklin,” he said with a frown.  
  
“I know, Gob,” Franklin responded. “It’s not easy.”  
  
Gob nodded. “And even if being gay wasn’t the problem, I’d still have feelings for someone and those feelings are like heavy weights holding me down, and I only even allowed myself to have them because I thought he was gay and it was for revenge and...” Gob paused for a moment, breathing deeply. “My heart hurts. I didn’t even know that hearts could hurt unless you ate,  like, way too many candy beans and bananas.”  
  
“Feelings are hard, brother.”  
  
“I know! Like why can someone have permission to tear me apart, make me feel so weak? I’m Gob Bluth - I’m a magician, a bee-farmer....a failure.”  
  
“And my brother.”  
  
For some reason, Gob’s own words out of Franklin’s mouth, as moved by his own hand, made him feel very sentimental. He hugged the doll tightly. “My brother,"  he said, weeping slightly. “My brother.”  
  
Gob held Franklin close to his heart for a minute, before he heard a crashing noise from downstairs. He hadn’t been in the attic for more than twenty minutes, yet this was already happening. “Oh shit,” he muttered, realizing his hiding spot might not be quite as good as he’d thought. After all, his father had hidden in that very same spot, and he had ended up back in jail or something. Suddenly the notion of going back to prison and rooming with frightening people like White Power Bill struck Gob like a lead pipe, and in that moment he decided that hiding was not worth it, and if the cops were already there, he would return downstairs to give the police his alibi DVD. This didn’t mean he had yet come to terms with any feelings that he had, but it did mean that he was willing to swallow his pride slightly if it would save him from prison. Prison was a nasty place, a cold place, a dark place. In such a place, he wasn’t allowed to have his magic, or his illusions, and he wasn’t allowed to be himself, whoever that was. Prison was not a place where he wanted to go, he suddenly realized in a bout of panic. It didn’t matter who knew bad things about him, didn’t matter what it meant for his world, Gob did not want to go back to rot away in a cell for a crime he had not committed. With the DVD shoved down his pants, where he had stored it earlier, he descended the attic stairs, hands in the air, Franklin still perched on his left.  
  
“I’m here,” he said, feeling the beating of his heart as his feet pounded the stairs. “Don’t shoot. I give up. This is my alibi. I was with T...” the words froze in Gob’s mouth, as he saw that the door to one bedroom on the floor was cracked open. “Oh, come on!” he said. “If you guys are going to stalk me out, at least stay out of the bedrooms.” As his feet reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped onto the floor of the model home, he paused for a second. “Police?” he asked in a uncharacteristically calm voice. “Where are you?”   
  
The light was on in the bedroom, and his heart pounded. He’d been in a bedroom with Tony in this very house. That’s what was captured on the tape. This was a pretty loose association, but Gob was feeling pretty shaken.  
  
“Are you hiding in there?” he asked. “That’s a silly place to hide! I mean, I’m the one who’s supposed to be hiding, not you.” He’d tried to hide behind the mask, tried to hide that his feelings were real. He hadn’t succeeded.  
  
Gob took another step forward. “Cops?” he asked. “I was a cop once too, a hot one. You know how it is. I’m not afraid of you. If you’ve come to get me, I’m here.” Tony had come to get him. He’d come early to the model home on Cinco, hoping to hide from Gob as well. He hadn’t hidden successfully either.  
  
“Hello?” he asked, stepping forward again. “I’m not ashamed,” he continued, talking more to himself than to the officers. “Well, actually, I sort of am. But, the truth is that this DVD, it can set me free. So I’m going to try.” Tony had set him free after their third love making session on Cinco, but that was a story for another time. More importantly, he hadn’t been ashamed of who he was when he’d been with Tony. He’d felt like himself for the first time in a long time.  
  
Gob inhaled deeply. And it was bravely, and still with his hands raised high, that he surrendered to himself, and to everything he was, and pushed through the slightly open door of the bedroom, ready to give up his pride to the police to save his own future. It was the first time that Gob had ever really thought through the consequences of his actions, so it was surprising when things did not turn out the way he had expected. As the door swung open, and revealed the people inside, Gob gasped.   
  
No one in the room was wearing a cop uniform. In fact, they were wearing nothing at all. And, unless the people he saw had suddenly become police officers within the past few weeks, which Gob supposed was possible, they weren’t that either. As Gob stood for a moment, not intentionally trying to watch, but feeling rather paralyzed, the two faces glanced up and saw him, and immediately shrieked and tried to cover themselves.   
  
With what he thought was coolness, but was really obvious shock and surprise, Gob found his legs and managed to run out of the doorway, and down the stairs to the living room. In the process of doing so, he somehow managed to fling Franklin off his hand and into the hallway, leaving him very alone. As he sat himself down on the couch trying to process what he had just seen, he frowned. Why had he been so willing to give up the DVD to the police when he thought they were there? And why had he just seen what he had seen? Why had he ever considered wanting to be with Tony? People would stare with the same confusion and disgust as he’d just done.   
  
Gob didn’t have long to ponder these thoughts, as a figure came rushing down the stairs.   
  
“I’m...I’m so sorry. Please don’t tell people what you saw. Please!”  
  
Gob frowned as he saw his nephew standing in front of him. “George Michael,” he said thoughtfully. Old Gob would have teased his nephew mercilessly, but Gob wasn’t quite feeling that this was the right response in this context. “Oh, George Michael. This is...quite the situation we have here, isn’t it.”  
  
“I...I...I...”  
  
“Listen, I don’t know what it’s like to have done anything shameful with...another human being...” Gob couldn’t bring himself to say woman, as his mind was screaming Tony’s name over and over. “But your cousin? Seriously? That’s just gross.”  
  
“She’s not my cousin. Aunt Lindsay was adopted, remember?” George Michael sounded triumphant, despite his obvious nervousness.  
  
“I remember. But how does that not make her your cousin?” Lindsay wouldn’t even make out with him. Gob was not fond of remembering this fact. Her being adopted was of absolutely no use to him.  
  
“Well,  if Aunt Lindsay isn’t related to my father than that means that Maeby isn’t related to me.”  
  
“Oh. That makes sense.” Gob still didn’t understand, but he tried his best. “If it’s not gross, then why are you trying to hide it?”  
  
George Michael sighed. “Uncle Gob,” he said. “I have to be honest with you. I’m still kind of mad with you about the whole thing with stealing my girlfriend...”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Ann.”  
  
“Oh. Her?” Gob didn’t remember.  
  
“Yeah you almost married Ann...”  
  
 Gob stared blankly. “Who?”  
  
“...You know what, never mind. But anyway, there was that, and then the whole lying to me, and making me pretend to be your boyfriend at some gay club and treating me like dirt? And then you didn’t tell me about my neighbours, and...I’m just getting sort of fed-up with you. I’m not really sure you’re the sort of person I want to confide in to be entirely honest.”  
“Well, I’m....sorry?”   
  
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, I’m sorry,” George Michael responded. “But since you asked, I might as well explain. We don’t want people to know what’s going on exactly because of reactions like yours, and worse. People think that it’s gross, and I guess that’s their opinion, but I’ve cared about Maeby since I was 13 years old, and no one can tell me that my feelings aren’t real.”  
  
“You have....feelings...for her?”  
  
“Yes, Uncle Gob. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. And you know what, screw society. Screw family. Well, not literally...well, kind of literally... but you know what I mean! Maeby and I care about each other and sure, maybe we’re trying to keep things secret for now as we get adjusted to who we are and how we feel, but the truth is that it doesn’t matter what people think, and I’m sick and tired of trying to just do what everyone wants me to do instead of what I want to do.”  
  
Gob paused. This all sounded very familiar to him. He swallowed heavily. “Bad example, is it kind of like being ashamed of being in love with a man, and suddenly having discovered these new feelings, that you only allowed yourself to have because you thought he was gay and you were hoping to exact revenge, but then you found out he was straight and you wanted to get even, so maybe you put a mask on someone and then tried to convince yourself that the sex that you were about to have was with yourself but it turned out to be him, and all you ended up doing was proving that your feelings were real...?”  
  
George Michael cocked his head at his uncle, and smiled slightly. “I guess so,” he said. “But the part I’m not really understanding is that, in that situation, nothing ever really got fought for. In your example, the feelings were there, but whoever the person was never really.... went for the feelings, you know? They were admitted, but you were ashamed.”  
  
“Not me. I said it’s a bad example.”  
  
“Okay, fine. The person had feelings, but just stayed ashamed. I’m not ashamed of being with Maeby. I mean, it’s hard sometimes. People aren’t always going to accept it. But I’ve cared about her for years, and damnit if I’m not going to try to make it work, no matter how hard it is? You know?” George Michael frowned. “Actually, Uncle Gob, you probably don’t know, because all I’ve ever seen is you constantly running away from your problems. You get these big grandiose schemes and everyone seems to get hurt in the path of them. My dad, me, Ann..”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“...even Aunt Lindsay and Uncle Buster and Gangee and Pop-Pop. Everyone is affected. So... I don’t even know where I was going with this. But the point is, that... I guess... even though Maeby and I will be judged, that it’s okay for us to be together? For now?”  
  
“Because you love each other?” Gob spoke quietly.  
  
“I...I guess so, yeah. And maybe the world doesn’t want us to work because we once thought we were related, but we’re going to try anyway. I just don’t want you to tell my dad. Or anyone. We need to tell people ourselves, not have it be some bunch of gossip. We’re people, not gossip... I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”  
  
As George Michael trailed off, Gob stared intently at his nephew. He was completely captured by his words. “You know,” he said. “Everything you’re saying makes sense.”  
  
“It...it does?”  
  
“Yeah. People aren’t going to accept it...”  
  
“Well, I knew that, but thanks for the vote of confidence. I just mean, we don’t choose who we love, and there’s nothing wrong with it, even if people think...”  
  
    “...but you should totally go for it.” Gob’s words surprised even himself.  
  
    “I...we should?” George Michael looked surprised.  
  
    Gob swallowed. As the words came out of his mouth, he felt his whole heart shift, and his pulse quicken. “Well, yeah. If it makes you happy, I mean, it doesn’t mean you have to be a cousin-lover your whole life...”  
  
    “She’s not m--”  
  
    “But I mean if you have feelings for her for now, I guess then that must mean it’s right. And who am I to judge? Even though I’ve never done anything embarrassing.” Had it really been that embarrassing to express real feelings he’d been feeling via love? It was only embarrassing because other people could judge it, and because he’d felt so out of control. But when he thought of Tony, the way he felt was alright...good, even. “Go, be with Maeby. And I won’t tell a soul.”  
  
    “Really? You’re not going to make fun of me, or blackmail me, or tell my father?”  
  
    This was tempting, but Gob knew better. “We all have our secrets and things we struggle with. Except me of course. So yeah, I can keep this one secret. And for now, you two, love each other.”    
    George Michael smiled. “Thanks Uncle Gob! I uh... I didn’t expect you to react this way. I guess, well, if there’s someone you love or something out there that I hope that goes well for you as well! You know, we can all fall in love someday! I guess um, be yourself! Love each other?”  
  
    Gob smiled a huge grin, and hugged his nephew tightly. “Love each other!” he said joyfully, squeezing George Michael a little too close. “I always knew we were related! That’s my boy!” Was George Michael referring to Tony? Did he somehow know? Did he somehow not care?  
  
    “You’re...squeezing... a little too tight, Uncle Gob, “ George Michael squeaked, but his tension eased up as he looked over to the bottom of the stairs. “Oh, haha... Maeby...” he said. “I didn’t see you standing there....” He smiled. “Uh, Uncle Gob?”  
  
    “Oh, sorry, George Michael,” Gob responded, letting go of his nephew. “Be free like a dove!” With a gesture of his arms, he released a dove into the air of the model home. It was the first time he’d ever released a dove properly when he’d planned to do so. This was an accomplishment.   
  
    As George Michael went over to talk to Maeby ( _“You know, that was actually pretty cool!” “Um..haha... thanks. Should we uh...” “Do you really think I’m in the mood for that?” “Oh I’m sorry...you know... I just had to...” “I’m just kidding. Come back upstairs with me. I told you, that was really cool.”_ ), Gob found himself thinking about the conversation he had just had with his nephew, and he realized that the conversation had hit incredibly close to home. He lightly brushed his fingers against the DVD which he had hidden tight against his body, and realized that he knew exactly what he had to do.   
  
      
  



	15. Chapter 15

Gob waited until George Michael and Maeby were upstairs before pulling his phone from his pocket. It felt heavy in his hand, but after having spoken with his nephew, he was confident that he had to call Tony.  It didn’t matter what the people around thought about their love, if that’s what they were calling it, because sometimes you don’t  need to put a label on things. Sometimes things just were, and Gob hadn’t a clue what to call whatever he was feeling (weird? tingly? bubbly? awesome?), but he knew it was something important. Gob bravely pressed the dialer on his phone, and waited.

  
"Hi! You have reached Tony!" a voice responded, and Gob's heart leaped in his chest. Tony. Tony Wonder. He was calling Tony and Tony had answered and... "I'm not available to take your call right now...: Gob jumped in the air. Tony wasn't there. But Tony. “because I'm right behind you." Gob turned. Tony was not right behind him. But Tony's voice was calling to him and he was calling Tony, and it was all incredibly overwhelming. Suddenly Gob remembered that Tony had told him that he had reminded him of a man he had loved and lost, and that meant that perhaps Tony loving another man was a problem as well, and calling him might not solve anything. It might all be for nothing. Perhaps the love wasn't worth fighting for. Gob felt his heart race faster and faster and his breath quicken, and as the answering machine continued, everything began to spin, and Gob slumped to the ground, his world having turned black.

  
Gob awoke a short time later, to an already blinking phone. "You have one missed call, Gob," Siri told him. "You have one new message, Gob."   
With bated breath, Gob pressed to listen.

  
“Hey Gob. I’ve called you a few times and haven’t gotten a hold of you, so I guess, um, well I’m calling you back. I hope you’ve been doing okay. I’ve been totally fine. Perfectly fine. Great even. My show's going well. Fantastic. Everything is...fine. Well, uh, call me back if you want?”

  
Tony's voice was the best thing that Gob had ever heard. It was even better than the talking Batman doll that he had once gotten for Christmas that had said nothing other than "I am Batman," when you pulled a string on its back. Tony had called him back, and had even said that he could return the call if he wanted. Of course, he wanted nothing more.

  
Gob waited for exactly two minutes to pass, so as to not seem desperate, and then he dialed the number again. "Hi! You have reached Tony!"

  
"OH hi Tony!"

  
"I'm not available to..." Gob somewhat patiently waited out the rest of Tony's answering machine, waiting until after the beep to exclaim, "TONY. I mean, uh hey Tony. Uh no big deal... yeah things are good here too. Haven’t talked to you in a while. Glad things are going well. I’m happy for you. Well I guess that’s it. I should go. You should definitely call me back. If you want. I guess. It's no big deal. In fact, don't call. It's fine. I don't care. It doesn't matter."

  
As he hung up, Gob quickly realized that he had not, in fact, told Tony anything that he had intended to say, and that this probably was a bad thing. He picked up the phone and called back, telling the answering machine, “Actually, Tony, I was calling because well, I want to talk to you about something and it’s probably not important but we probably should talk because it’s a good idea. I guess. Maybe. Probably n--"

  
Gob's message was interrupted by a beep emitted from his phone, indicating that had a call on the other line. “...I gotta go. Talk to you later, maybe or probably not.” He then answered the call.

  
"Hello?"

  
“GOB! I mean... hi. How’s the Christian magician?” It was Tony. Gob almost squealed at the sound of his voice, but tried to stay cool.

  
“More of just a general magician. Decided to lose the title. How’s the gay magician?”

  
 “Still gay.”

  
This pleased Gob, for some reason.  “Good!...I mean...nevermind.”

  
An awkward silence resonated across the phone lines.

  
 “So why did you call me? I’ve had like a few missed calls, and I’ve sort of..”

  
“...Wondered?”

  
“Yeah, that.” Tony sounded cold, and Gob himself wondered if this had been a good idea.

  
“I just... I wanted.. to tell you that...”

  
“That you think leaving me hanging for weeks and then finally calling me back is fine? Gob, I’m not a toy.”

  
“Well it’s sort of fun playing with you, so how could I know that!” Gob shot back. The silence on the other end made him realize that he’d said a very wrong thing.“You’re mad at me.”

  
“I don’t know if I’m mad at you so much as done with you, Gob. I haven’t heard from you in weeks, I’m a mess... I mean, I’m fine. I’m doing great. My last set of shows turned out well, and maybe they’ll turn into something...”

  
“Bees?”

  
“What?” 

“Bees?"

“Oh. Yeah, you’re right. There are bees in my act. I don’t know how you know that or if you were stalking me or something, but seriously, Gob, I haven’t heard from you in ages and I really don’t know if I want to talk to you now. We had some good times, but...” 

 “..but you love someone else? You know what, that’s okay, no shame. You’re allowed to love someone. Love each other, you know?” Gob cursed himself for ever saying such words.

“Like that cross illusion you did? That was sick. But...wait. Love someone else? No. I don’t love anyone right now and I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tony's words came out slowly, and he sounded confused. "You were the last person I dated at all, and well we know how well that went." 

 “You don’t love someone?" Gob was surprised, and his words came out in a blur. But that meant..

“No. And I really don’t know why you’re just calling me now.” 

“I’ve called before! I swear I’ve called!” 

“Yes, and I’ve called back and you’ve never returned those calls. It’s been almost a month, Gob. I thought we actually had something special.”

“Well, can we meet up? Can we talk? There must be something that we can do."

“Well I’m home right now, and will be for a few hours. I’m not coming to you, but if you really want to talk, come to me. I’m queer, and I’m here.” Tony paused, waiting for Gob’s response.

“And soon I will be over there.” Gob thought he was being clever. Tony didn’t.

“...Uh, Okay Gob. See you, then.”

Gob, realizing that he had just made plans to go talk to Tony in person, and this was very frightening, spent the next 30 minutes trying to select the perfect outfit for the evening. After trying on countless outfits, styling his luscious hair multiple times, and shaving off minimal facial stubble that had grown back from his morning shave, he was finally prepared to go. The purple button-up shirt which he chose, paired with a white pair of tight pants just seemed suitable and like the sort of things which Tony would want him to wear. It just seemed right.   
What would he say to Tony? If Tony had forgotten the evening, he wouldn't understand why Gob had been so hesitant. He wouldn't understand that Gob hadn't left him hanging, but rather Gob was, himself, quite hurt by the situation. The only thing Gob could think was that he could bring the DVD that he had as evidence of where he was on Cinco. If nothing else, he could ask Tony for permission to use it as an alibi, and continue on with his sad existence of his life. He stuffed the DVD down his pants, and swallowing deeply, stepped out of the model home.

It was with a pounding heart that Gob left the model home, wondering whether he should call Tony to let him know he was coming. His heart was racing so fast, however, that this likely wasn't even an option. Were he to have picked up his phone at that moment, his words would have been garbled and excited, but also frightened. Very frightened. Gob had no idea what to expect, and the few words he'd just shared with the man he was about to meet with did not give him great confidence that things would go well. In fact, they gave him the opposite: Tony had told him that he didn't want to talk to him, that he was angry, and that he was hurt and confused about the whole situation. But he had said something that had peaked Gob's interest for sure: "Love someone else? No. I don't love anyone right now and I don't know what you're talking about." What had Tony referenced that night when Gob had met him, in disguise, hoping desperately that Tony would love him? Who was he talking about? Who had Gob reminded him of, who had broken his feeble heart?

Gob couldn't help but think of the conversation which he'd had with his nephew. It had been less than an hour previous that he had spoken to him, but he felt like a changed man. "I'm going to make it work, no matter how hard it is," he had said. "People aren't all going to accept it, but I've worked to hard to let this go." Not everyone was going to accept that he loved Tony. Perhaps even Tony wasn't going to accept it. But Gob had spent too many nights drunk on the couch of the model home, crying over his pain, spilling his feelings to Franklin, and slipping into deep darkness to not give this a try. His final words had always been, "Love each other." Even if it had all been an act, just an act, to get that girl (whoever she was) and her family to love him, the words somehow resonated as true. Maybe that Jesus guy really did have some insight on the world.

As Gob drove, he spoke to himself. "T...T....T...Tony," he said, struggling to fit his tongue around the word which had plagued his mind. "I have.....f...f...fe.." Why was it so much harder to say when he wasn't staring into the deep pits of Tony's eyes?

"I...I'm...so..sorr....?" What was he sorry for again? "I've made a h...h....h..hu..huge mistake." That one felt like something he had said before for some reason. It also was definitely not the right thing for him to say in this incident, as he certainly wasn't the one who'd done anything wrong. It was Tony who had taken a forget-me-now, Tony who had forgotten everything. It was Tony who'd had the bliss of innocence, while he'd had to remember. The memories were beautiful, but they hurt like hell, and Gob still wished them away.

"I l..lo...lo...?"

The drive seemed so much shorter than he expected, yet by the time he got there he had a vague idea of what he would say. Thinking of George Michael, he figured that if he told Tony that his nephew and niece were dating, that that would suddenly clarify everything and maybe Tony would understand. That, or, he could turn the car around and drive back home because as he pulled up next to Tony's house he felt his chest tightening and everything closing in around him. He didn't have to do this. Stupid feelings. He didn't have to be with Tony. He didn't need feelings. He could go back to Homosexual's Anonymous and they would help him crush his feelings. You totally choose who you loved, just like George Michael and Maeby had totally chosen to love each other when they were teenagers and it was even more taboo than it was currently.

He did, however, likely need to get Tony's permission on that DVD's release to the police if he didn't want to end back in jail with people who liked to do similar things as the content on the DVD, with substantially less attention to what the recipient wanted.

Gob took a moment to exit his car, but then bravely walked to Tony's door. As he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open before him.

"Uh, I..I.. I..T...T...T...To...?" he exclaimed, stammering over the simple syllables, as Tony's face was before his. Yes, he'd seen Tony recently, but this was the first time since Tony had left him alone in the model home, feeling confused and sad, that Tony had seen his real, undisguised, face. Gob felt slightly naked without a mask.

"Gob," Tony replied, much cooler, but his eyes showed that he was rather tense. "You came."

"Yes," Gob managed to squeak out, his eyes wandering rabidly over Tony's body. His hair was the perfect amount of spiky, his outfit fit him just so, and the little triangles on his chin were trimmed to neat little points. He wanted to grab his body against his, hold him tight, and tell him that he never wanted to let him go. The only person who Gob had previously wanted to do such a thing to was Michael, and that situation was rather different.

"Well, what do you have to say?" Tony asked, still standing at the door, not beckoning Gob inside, just standing. Waiting. "You must have come for a reason."

"You're mad at me."

"Yeah, fine. You’re right. I am."

"Come on, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. We need to talk. I can explain everything. Really, I can." The words were flowing so much easier when he was actually standing in front of the man who had haunted his dreams, but at the same time, he was saying things he'd never expected to say, practically groveling at the man's feet. "I have so much to tell you and I've really...I've just..I..."

"Gobie," Tony said softly. "Why are you coming to me now? I was certain that once you'd left once, you weren't coming back." His eyes here were filled with sadness, and Gob swore he could see moisture welling up in them.

"C...c....c...can we just sit and talk? Or something? I need to talk. I need to be...same." Gob's words slipped out in an unsteady flow.

"I guess you can come in Gob, but really, I don't know what to tell you. You just couldn't deal with the fact that you might be gay, could you? I know your secret

Gob." Tony stepped away from the door, and Gob stepped inside.

"M...m...my secret?" Which secret did Tony know? Did Tony know that he'd been to his shows? Did he know that he'd kissed another man? Did he know that people thought he'd killed Lucille 2? Or maybe he knew that he had been to Homosexual's Anonymous and had admitted to everyone there that he was ashamed that he'd had feelings for a man. Maybe Tony just knew that the feelings that he'd admitted that day to help secure revenge were real? That was a pretty huge secret.

"Yes, Gob. I know that you never really told the world that you were gay, that you were just masquerading as a straight man, and I know that you got scared of dating me. But that doesn't mean you needed to bail on me. Doesn't mean that after all our great times that you'd stop calling me back, stop laughing with me, stop acting like you cared. Seriously man, that wasn't cool. You could have just told me that you weren't into it anymore. That wouldn't have been that hard."

"What do you mean that wouldn't have been that hard? You're the one who chose to forget what we did! You're the one who forgot all the love we made and the great times we had! I _remembered_. You didn't remember but I _did_. You took your stupid forget-me-now and tried to make me do it all over again but I remembered. I remembered, Tony, and you didn't. 'Hey Gobie - It's Tony! You still on for our sex date tonight?' I can't forget those words. They are burned into my memory. Burned. I can't forget them."

As Gob spoke, he became more and more upset, yet surprisingly he didn't stutter, speaking instead with conviction and passion. Yet, as the words came out, the look in Tony's eyes changed gradually, from one of disdain and anger, to a laughing grin.

“You remember?”

“What? Of course I do!”

“Of course. You remember.” Tony began to laugh even harder, the laughter shaking his body. Gob didn’t understand.

"What? Why? Why is this funny? Don't you understand how messed up I've been? How much I've hurt? How seriously fucked up this is? You left me all alone in this place and I hate it and I hate feelings and I don’t want to fuck women and they're trying to send me to jail and I..."

“Gob,” Tony stopped him, grinning,  and he shook his head in disbelief as he smiled at Gob, and then leaned forward, and kissed him deeply, right on the lips. Gob sighed as he pressed himself up against Tony, feeling a surge of energy rush through him. What was this feeling?

"Gob," Tony said again, as he pulled away slightly, still keeping his face close to Gob's. His eyes danced as he said, "You idiot. You complete and utter fucking idiot."

"What? Why? What did I do?" Gob asked, heart racing rapidly, his lungs breathing in deeply carrying fuel to his oxygen depreived brain.

"All those forget-me-nows have clearly addled your mind. Oh Gob, you wonderful, wonderful idiot." Tony laughed, and kissed him again. "I didn't forget. Of course I didn't forget. How could I forget?"

"But...you called...and asked if we were still on for our sex date."

"Yes. Of course I did. Because I was worried you'd take a forget-me-now because, let's face it Gob, that's what you told me you always do. Don't you remember how I practically had to drag the bottle from your hands after that awesome night out we had? That was supposed to be a night to remember, and you tried to change that! Don’t you remember that?”

“I think I was out of the room at that time,” Gob said. He had actually been staring at Tony’s lips as he’d talked. There was something sexy about him when he got angry. And when he smiled. And when he looked into space with that little face he sometimes got. Actually, when he did pretty much anything.

Tony shook his head again, unable to contain his impish smile. “You idiot. You wonderful idiot. Gob, _I_ remember clearly. The reason I called about our sex date wasn’t because I’d forgotten what we’d done. I know what happened that night, I know that we had normal sex, and to be honest I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.” He smiled, as if remembering, and gleefully leaned forward, and pecked a very surprised Gob again on the lips. “I thought you’d just decided you didn’t care, so I was so broken and sad and confused. But now that I know you know, everything can be alright again!”

Gob’s heart pounded in his throat. “I still don’t understand,” he said, despite badly wanting to. “But, why did you call about the sex date if we’d already had it?”

“Oh Gob,” Tony said fondly. “Stupid, forgetful Gob. We’d had so much fun that we’d made _another date_ for the following night.”


	16. Chapter 16

Gob stared at Tony. "We planned a sex date? Really? Another one?"  
  
Tony nodded. "Let's be honest here. The first one was pretty awesome, and we didn't even expect it to be like that. We went at it, what, four times?"  
  
"Three." Gob had counted while he'd watched the video. "...but who's counting?" He paused for a moment. "So, why don't I remember this?"  
  
Tony frowned slightly. "Well you seemed like you were pretty tired when we had the conversation. You were just kind of flopped there on the bed, and my arms were around you and, basically, you said, 'we should do this again!' and I just kind of said, 'tomorrow?' and you nodded, so I assumed that that meant yes. I wasn't sure if you'd remember it, especially since you don't seem to remember much of anything, but I mean, I didn't expect you to completely ignore my phone call. All I could figure was that you'd thought through the evening and no longer wanted anything to do with me."  
  
Now that Tony mentioned this, it did sound vaguely familiar to Gob, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “And I assumed when you called that you'd taken a forget-me-now and had forgotten the whole story."  
  
"You’re the one who takes forget-me-nows! I don't even think I've ever taken one!”  
  
Gob looked at Tony. "Actually...." he said mischieviously. "There was that one time..."  
  
"What? You gave me a forget-me-now?" Tony began to freak out, but stopped when he noticed Gob laughing like a child. "What, are you just joking? Don't scare me like that Gob. I've only now just seen you for the first time in ages, and am only starting to get over the fact that this is even happening and, well, you haven't even really told me what you came to say, have you? I mean, maybe nothing's happening, and I'm just making an ass of myself over nothing."  
  
Gob glanced at Tony, and tilted his head slightly. "You know what, Tony?" he said with a small grin. "We're just so much the..."  
  
"Same?"  
  
"Same."  
  
Tony smiled. "We really are same. We both freaked out over thinking the other person had forgotten us, while just sitting there and allowing ourselves to think these thoughts, when in reality we would have been fine if we'd just talked to each other. Why are we such idiots?"  
  
"I guess we just are," Gob responded with a slight smile. "The question is, now what?"  
  
Tony frowned slightly. "Well, first of all we can stop acting like mature adults, because neither of us works particularly well that way."  
  
"Well obviously. But what do we do then?"  
  
Tony smiled. "Well, we could do something crazy!"  
  
"I'd love to go ride that mechanical bull again!"  
  
"Same! Or maybe roll down a hill in the dark?"  
  
"Same! In shopping carts?"  
  
"Of course! Just like we did that evening."  
  
"Same! Or...."  
  
"We..."  
  
"Could..."  
  
"...have that..."  
  
"....Sex date?"  
  
As the two men spoke, they leaned closer and closer to each other, and their faces turned from mischievious grins to expressions of deep thought. Instead of being focussed on their wild endeavors, suddenly they had just one thought filling their mind - the thought of each other filling them. Or, just in general, being with the other person.  
  
"I think that might be good," Tony murmured, eyes mainly shut, as he leaned towards Gob.  
  
"Same," Gob responded, leaning just far enough forward to brush his lips against Tony's.  
  
\-------  
Gob sighed contentedly as he lay sprawled on Tony’s couch. "That was...really good," he said. “I might even say...amazing?”  
  
"It didn't feel like we had to do it to keep up appearances, did it?" Tony's arms were around Gob, and he smiled down at him as he spoke.  
  
"No," Gob responded. "In fact, it felt quite the opposite. Like, this is the exact sort of thing we don't want in our appearances."  
  
"Well," Tony said with a laugh, "Technically this is exactly what I want for my appearances. But you're not quite in the same situation, are you?"

Gob frowned.   "No. I’m supposed to be straight and there for all the women. I’m supposed to be fucking and not caring...especially the not caring part, and I’m supposed to be, well... I'm not supposed to have any scandals. Nothing. But I am also supposed to be happy, and am supposed to actually get stuff done, so maybe this is right. It's fine. Everything is fine."

"Your family has always been full of scandals," Tony laughed. "The light treason, the shemale incident, your mother in prison, the disappearance of Lucille Austero..."  
  
"Shit," Gob said, sitting up with a start. "The disappearance of Lucille 2. They think that I may have been involved in that!"  
  
"How could you be involved in that?" Tony asked. "You were with me at the time that happened."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know that," Gob responded. "But I didn't have proof of that, and she was my ex, so they are trying to get me in trouble, and I was supposed to get them an alibi and..."

“She was your ex?” Tony asked. “What did you ever see in that old thing?”

  
Tony and Lucille Austero actually shared a lot of similarities in ways of appearance. If Tony were to dress in drag, which he had certainly done before, he and Lucille could possibly pass for siblings. Gob, however, did not care about this, and was feeling things spin around him. “I’ve...I’ve made a huge...” The last word fell silent on his lips.  
  
"Gobie?" Tony asked, turning Gob's head towards him and looking him straight in the eyes. "You have your alibi. I'll tell them you were with me. It's not the end of the world.  Everything will be fine. You didn't do anything wrong."  
  
"But people can't find out about this. I can't tell people. I'm not supposed to be g..g...ga...g...ho...hom..homo...g...ga..."  
  
"I knew that this wasn't going to go so well," Tony sighed. "You know what Gob, maybe this isn't right. I can't be with a guy who's this insecure of himself. I mean I'm Tony Wonder. I have to have confidence. You can't keep bringing me down."  
  
"But... but....TONY..." Gob whined, and tried to continue. "It's just that.. that... judgement. And harsh. And hate. And my family. And Mikey and career and women and breasts and...and...and FEELINGS."  
  
"Does it really matter? You're still the same Gob you always were. Maybe now you're just a little happier. Maybe you're becoming a big W instead of a small one. Finally growing into yourself. Finally realizing what you want out out of life is more than just a bunch of tricks."  
  
"Illusions?"  
  
"No, the illusions are always relevant. It's the tricks that we need to put aside sometimes. Tricks aren't good. You know, those things that don't really matter in the big scheme of things. The things we put to try to show the world that we're something we're not."  Gob began to protest, but Tony leaned in and kissed him on the lips. "Now, now, Gob. It's okay. Just be in the moment and enjoy, you know? It's not every day that you find someone who makes you feel this way, so we might as well give it a try."  
  
Gob frowned slightly. "Same?" he questioned, doubting his heart.  
  
"Same," Tony smiled at him.  
  
The smile was contagious, and Gob couldn’t help but return it. "Same!" he said triumphantly. "Same, same, same! This is insame!"  
  
Tony just laughed, and pulled him in for another kiss. "I didn't think this would happen," he murmured.  
  
"Same."  
  
"But it feels so right."  
  
"Same" Gob breathed into Tony's lips.  
  
\---  
  
Days had passed quickly in Gob’s life before. Sometimes he sat in one spot for days on end, lost in his darkness, surfacing for little more than mustard and parmesan, and maybe a Mike’s Hard Lemonade. He’d talk to no one, see no one, and really think of nothing except whether a roofie would make the time pass even quicker. This time was different. Gob spent the next few days in the apartment with Tony. He’d tried to leave several times, waking up in the middle of the night in a panic, and trying to sneak out quietly, but each time Tony would call him back (“Gob, you idiot, get back here.”). Not every moment was peaceful. Sometimes he’d retreat into darkness, fearing the worst, but each time Tony would pull him out with a tap on the shoulder, a smile, or even a kiss. He was happy, but hadn’t quite come to terms with where he was and what he was doing.

  
    “Is this gay?” he asked Tony one day as he sat at the counter eating french toast and bacon.

  
    “Is what gay?” Tony responded, smiling as he glanced at Gob and flipped the bacon he was currently frying.  
    

“Eating breakfast with someone after you’ve slept with him?”

  
    “Gob, the whole sleeping with the man part is the part that makes it gay, not the breakfast part.”

  
    “Oh.” Gob had thought that the feelings made it gayer than the action itself. Perhaps he’d been gay longer than he’d thought. “Tony?”  
  
    “Yes, Gobie?” Tony looked so handsome in his bathrobe, hair still a mess from morning cuddles. Gob didn’t know why he thought it was so perfect.  
  
    “Is this.. is...is this okay?”  
  
    “Is what okay?”  
  
    Gob had a lot of questions. He didn’t really know what he was asking, except that there were a lot of things that he was leaving unsaid. He struggled for a moment to collect his thoughts, and then said, “Am I eating this french toast right? Like, am I supposed to cut it in strips or something? I feel like I’m making a mess!” This question was one of the less pressing questions on Gob’s mind, but it seemed easier to ask than the other stuff like, “Is it okay that I’m with a man?”. “Is it okay that I’m here so much?” or “Is it okay that I think I have feelings for someone?”  
  
    “Gob, it’s french toast. You can eat it however the hell you want. There’s no rulebook.”  
  
    “But, how do _you_ eat it?”  
  
    “I don’t know, I just put it in my mouth and chew?”  
  
    Gob tried that. Mouth full of french toast, he tried speaking to Tony. “Like this?” Tony just shook his head and laughed.  
  
    Suddenly there was a vibration from on the counter, where Gob’s phone currently sat. “One sec,” he said, mouth still full. “I gotta get this.” He answered the phone with a slightly muffled, “Hello?”  
  
    “Gob? It’s Carl.”  
  
    “Oh. Uh hi.” Gob stepped away from the counter for a moment, gesturing to Tony that he’d be back in a moment. “What’s up?”  
  
    “I’m just checking to see if you got that alibi stuff lined up, Gob. I don’t want you to have to go to prison, but they’re going to come get you soon. It’s been five days Gob. We’re working on this being your last chance. I thought you said you had that figured out!”  
  
    “I do... I do... I have it all figured out.” Gob had forgotten that he had to tell the station where he was that night, and he most certainly did not have it figured out. Despite having spent the past days in Tony’s house, he was still not at a point where he was sure that he was okay with that fact, and he was no closer to being ready to go to the police.  
  
    “So you can bring me your alibi? Bring it down to the station.”  
  
    “Yeah, definitely. I can do that.” Gob was not sure he could do that.  
  
    “Great. Just what I needed to hear.”  
  
    “And...uh.. if something happens to go wrong and I can’t bring it down, what then? What happens? I’m good right, cause you know I have an alibi?”  
  
    “Unfortunately, no. As much as I believe you, we need the proof. You’ll have to bring it in, or else they will come find you, and at that point, there will be nothing I can do for you.”  
  
    “Okay,” Gob said with false security. “I can do that. Everything will be _fine_. It will all be great. We can do this. I won’t go to prison. I don’t have to. It’s _fine_.”  
  
    “Great. And, Gob I was meaning to ask you... when this all is over, do you want to go out sometime? Chat? Have fun? Maybe go to a real magic show this time?”  
  
 _“That was a real magic show!”_  
  
    “Oh, I mean actually watch it.. You know what, nevermind. Just remember to get your alibi in so you’re good to go. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”  
  
    “Thanks Carl...” Gob said. “I wonder who really ki---...” Gob jumped as he felt warm breath on his neck, and an arm snake around his waist. “I gotta go. Talk to you later.”  
  
    “Who was that, babe?” Tony asked, kissing Gob gently on the neck.  
  
    “Just somebody from work,” Gob said, feeling warm as Tony pressed against him. It wasn’t a lie.  
  
    “Well, work can wait for now, right? Why don’t we just focus on my work!” Tony kissed him again.  
  
    “Your work?”  
  
    “Being a gay magician of course.” Gob turned to face Tony, with a smile. “Mainly the gay part.”  
  
    The alibi could wait.  
      
  
      
      



	17. Chapter 17

Gob breathed in deeply, as he snuggled against Tony's naked body. He didn't know how long he'd been sleeping, but he knew that, for once, he had no instinct to run away. It was okay to wake up next to someone. It was okay to not run off after sex. And it was totally okay to breathe in the back of their neck and savor their sweet smell, a smell that smelled vaguely of glitter and strippers, but mainly of something distinctly Tony. He pulled Tony tighter, wrapping his arms around his abdomen, and smiling as he felt the warmth against him. This wasn't so bad. Everything was quiet, at peace and still. Tony was so calm, so restful. And everything felt right. The rest of the world could wait.  
  
 _Getaway, Getaway. Stay away, Getaway, getaway Getaway, you're hopelessy hopeless!_  
  
Suddenly Gob's phone was blowing up with a familiar song. The song didn't fit the mood at all, and Gob felt a sinking in his stomach. Was something wrong? Why did someone have to break him from this moment? What if someone knew what he was doing, where he was, how happy this all made him? What if...  
  
The phone kept ringing, and Gob regretfully pulled his body away from Tony's, and reached over to grab his phone off the night-stand where it lay. . He couldn't stand to hear the phone continue on, jarring him out of his restfulnesss, ruining the moment. It was better just to answer it.  
  
"Hello?" Tony stirred slightly in his sleep, and Gob feared he might be roused from his slumber.  
  
  
"Hello. Is this George Oscar Bluth?" a deep male voice asked.  
  
"Yes, this is Gob," Gob said in a low voice, careful not to wake Tony. "Who is this?"  
  
"This is Officer David from the Orange County Police Department. " the voice said. "This is a reminder that we are awaiting your alibi here at the police department. We have given you your five days, and we need you to return to the station with your proof of innocence in the Lucille Austero case. We have been keeping an eye on you, and unfortunately if you do not return on your own, we will have to take you into custody until things get cleared up. I hope you understand.”  
  
"You...you know where I am?" Gob asked, wide-eyed. Did they know he was currently in bed with Tony? He quickly wrapped a sheet around his body, glancing around the room.   
  
"We know how to find you," the police clarified. "Hopefully I will see you later today, and we will be able to sort some things out and make this as pleasant as possible for everyone involved."  
  
It seemed as though the officer was about to hang-up the phone, but Gob stopped him. "So you can definitely find me?"  
  
"Definitely."   
  
"And what would happen if I made myself disappear?"  
  
Although simply heard aurally, the pause almost indicated a frustrated eye roll. "Should we just come get you now? Because we can do that. Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”  
  
"Sh...sh...sh....sh....should...should...should you? No. No, no. No, no, no. Sh.. I'll just come in later, don't worry. I'll...I'll..I'll be there."  
  
Gob hung up the phone, with panic in his eyes. He had to go to the police. It  He couldn't be put back into prison, be forced into that darkness and captivity. He had to keep living the free life he was living. He had to keep trying to figure out what he was doing with Tony.  
  
With Tony. Tony was his alibi. Tony knew where he was on Cinco de Cuatro. Tony was there. Tony could come and then everything would be good again.  
  
Gob shook Tony awake. "Tony, Tony, we have to go, now. We have to leave!"  
  
"Oh no, don't tell me you caught the house on fire again!" Tony said, instantly awake, eyes open wide and staring at Gob's panicked face. "Gob, I told you if you couldn't figure out how to use that lighter fluid that you had to stop storing it in your jacket. There's flammable stuff h---"  
  
"No, no we have to go to the police. Come! Come set me free Tony! You can set me free!"  
  
"Wait, what?"   
  
"Oh you know how I said that thing about how they think I killed Lucille Austero? Yeah I need an alibi, and you were my alibi, because you knew where i was that night, and we need to go RIGHT NOW or else I might get arrested and taken by force and then we probably won't be able to cuddle anymore. But no big deal, right?"  
  
Tony just looked at Gob for a moment, looking bemused with a hint of frustration. "...Alright Gob," he responded. "I really don't understand what you're saying, but at least give me a chance to get dressed, and we can go. I guess."  
  
Gob wrapped his arms around Tony, and kissed him straight on the lips. "Excellent," he said, and then glancing downwards, "Although the having to get dressed thing is a real shame."  
  
Five minutes later both Gob and Tony began to get dressed, and then rushed out of Tony's apartment and off to the police station. Upon arriving there, Gob swallowed any fear, and ran to the front desk, grabbing Tony's hand and pulling him after him.   
  
"I've got it!" He proclaimed loudly and made sure to add a hint of pride. "I've got my alibi, right HERE." He widely gestured towards Tony, who grinned sheepishly. Gob grabbed Tony's face, and kissed him square on the lips. "See? Alibi."  
  
The desk clerk, bewildered, glanced at the two men. "Why don't I get the officers to come talk to you," she said, trying to keep a straight face. As Gob nodded, maintaining his triumphant smile, she rushed back behind the desk, and quickly returned with two officers, who seemed slightly worried.  
  
"Gob?" One asked, looking at the man. "Why don't you come back with us."  
  
Gob continued to smile, and pulled Tony along behind him, like an obedient puppy.  
  
"No, leave your friend out here. We just need you."  
  
"But, you don't understand, he's my alibi! I'm gay! He was with me that night."  
  
"Is this true?" the officer said, looking Tony up and down. Tony nodded.  
  
"Yeah he's totally a gay magician, I mean look at those pink triangles on his beard. That's like a gay sign or something. You can't even deny it. And he's all famous-y." Gob exclaimed, pointing enthusiastically at Tony's face.  
  
"That's...great. Great." the officer finally said, after thinking for a moment.  
  
"Do you have proof that you were together that night?" the other officer asked.  
  
Gob looked at Tony. "Tony, were you with me that night?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"See? There's my proof! I'm queer, I'm here, and now I get to leave!"  
  
The officers frowned, and Tony looked a little concerned. "We will have to take your friend here in for questioning to assure that he was actually with you that night. This really isn't that solid an alibi though. Did someone know you were with him?"  
  
"There was...someone."  
  
"Who?"   
  
"I...don't remember her name. Do you, Tony?"  
  
"Something like Christ...ina?"  
  
Gob cocked his head. "That doesn't seem right. I don't know. Don't even know where to find her now. But it's all good! Tony is here, and we're good to go, right?"  
  
"Not exactly. It would be better if there was some sort of record of the evening, or some other people rather than just his word confirming it. Were there any people around? Any security cameras outside that could have proven you weren't near the downtown core where Lucille Austero disappeared? There must have been something. It's great that you have this guy here with you, but you could have spared us the theatrics and just brought us some solid evidence."  
  
Gob paused. "Oh yeah, I also have a DVD of the security cameras that were in the room where we were having some real great normal sex! It was super gay," he said, any sense of shame having fallen away. "In fact I have it right here!" Everyone cringed and turned their heads and Gob reached down the pants which he had spent very little time wearing over the recent days. Had they been watching, they would have noticed the look on Gob's face rapidly shift from pride, to fear, to panic, to despair.  
  
"Well... there's got to be a logical explanation for this..." he said. "I mean...the...the... hey look! Do you hear a squeaking sound?" he asked one of the two officers. "That's because there's a mouse behind your ear!" he continued, producing a mouse from behind the officer's ear, which then proceeded to wriggle out of his grip, and fall to the floor. The desk clerk shrieked and stood on her chair, and both the officers and Tony looked vaguely uncomfortable.  
  
"Gob, I'm not sure this is the best timing.." Tony said quietly, brushing his hand against his arm.  
  
"HEY LOOK! A DOVE!" Gob said, brushing Tony's arm away, and flailing wildly. A dead dove fell to the floor. It looked as though it had been dead for several days. "Oh shit," he said. "What do doves eat again?"  
  
The officers had had enough. “Gob, we need you to come with us,” one said, gently grabbing his arm. “We have some questions for you. If you can get someone to bring you solid proof that’s fine, but for now we need more answers than this is giving us. Come on, now.” They began to pull Gob backwards, but he yelled, "Tony!" They continued to push him into a dark hallway, and as he flailed and complained, they dropped him into a holding cell. "We'll be back to get you in a bit," one said. "For now, stay here." Gob cried out, as he hated where he was and that he'd been taken away from Tony just as things were starting to make sense.  
  
"Please," he said in a pleading voice. "Just let Tony come to me for a minute. I can send him to go get the evidence. Please."  
  
The officers begrudgingly led Tony to the back, and he came straight to the bars, where Gob was clinging. "Gob? What can I do?"  
  
"The DVD is somewhere at your place, " Gob replied frantically. “There are two disks, but it probably doesn't even really matter. Just find them and bring them back. Set me free! I don't want to be stabbed or hurt or be in prison _please_. No prison for me. I hate it there!"   
  
As Gob pressed himself against the bars, Tony leaned forward and kissed him gently, but with as much passion as he could muster under the circumstances. "I'll do my best, Gobie," he said. "I'll get you out of here."  
  
"Your time is up," the officer told Tony, and led him away. Gob stayed close, watching him leave, grasping the bars of the cell, and emitting a horrible noise. Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him.  
  
"Hey, brother."  
  
Gob turned, and there sat Buster, on a little bench at the back of the cell.   
  
"Buster? What are you doing here?"  
  
"I think they expected to see you come in, and brought me over for more questions too, just in case I could help you to talk or something. I don't know. But it's okay. I mean, now I get to see you!”  
  
"Have you been home at all?"  
  
"No. Just in the prison. Normally I have a slightly bigger cell, and I have a room mate who is really snuggly, but I guess I'm here to get to see you today," Buster said, shrugging slightly. "I'd say I wish Mother was here, but she hasn't really been much of a mother lately anyway."  Buster paused for a moment, as if to think, and then looked straight at his brother. "Was that Tony Wonder you were with? The magician?" The thought of Tony seemed to excite him.   
  
"How do you know Tony?"  
  
"That act we did together, don't you remember?" Buster seemed hurt. "The Sword of Destiny! To be completely honest, that was the one time my missing hand sort of came in handy...oh well..." Buster laughed, but Gob was unsure whether or not to join in, so he just smiled slightly, thinking of Tony.  
  
"Yes, yes, that's right, you were there weren't you. With that magnificent bastard and his amazing illusions. How did he even do that stuff? I'll never understand. He didn't understand back then how good I was, but now he gets every bit of it!"  
  
"So, are you two...together... or something? Because that's okay and everything, but I wasn't really sure..."  
  
"Well, Buster, as your older brother, I don't know if that's the sort of thing we should be talking about."  
  
"Don’t be silly, Gob. I've been with a black woman now, Gob. I'm not a child." Buster laughed. "I've seen the world. I'm a changed man. I don't need a mother anymore. I've been fine without her here in prison."  
  
"A black woman?" Gob paused. "Well, then, yes, Buster, I guess Tony and I are sort of together. We've spent some time together if that counts or something. It's really awesome. Fantastic. And...not a big deal. Really, not a big deal at all. In fact it really doesn't matter at all. Nothing, really."  
  
"Are you...ashamed?.. of being with him or something? Because, at first I wondered about being with someone other than mother," Gob flinched, "but now that I understand I don't need her anymore, things are different. I'm a grown man. I can do what I want. And so can you. And, hey if what you want to do is Tony Wonder, well, then that’s great!” Buster spoke the final words with a sense of glee. “I always sort of thought it would be cool to have him as another other brother!”  
  
"Yeah, yeah..." Gob said impatiently, but really, he was thinking. "It was time for you to find a woman to be with anyway. Had to break free of the nest. "  
  
"Anyway, my point is that sometimes the feelings you get and what you can learn can change you. You don't need to hide from that. Now that you've been with a man, doesn't that mean that you can grow too? I mean, I'm changed..."  
  
"I...I....guess so," Gob said, feeling as though is heart was a few sizes too large.   
  
“Do you really think there’s something wrong with it? I was kind of hoping that when things felt right, that they were, you know? I could be wrong though..”  
  
“I...I...” Gob had nothing to say about this, so he changed the topic. “So, why are you still here if you’re innocent? Couldn’t you have proven that it wasn’t you or something?”  
  
Buster shrugged. “Oh you know, it’s not so bad... And sometimes it’s better not to fight and just let the situation go. And, plus, there’s unlimited juice! I mean, what can be better than unlimited juice? They even let me have bagels sometimes.” Buster giggled with delight at the thought of juice and bagels.   
  
“Will I get juice and bagels too?”  
  
“If you’re here long enough and ask for them, sure! Maybe even some grilled cheese! We can eat them together!” Buster continued to giggle as he looked at Gob. “I mean, we are brothers!”  
  
That they were. And even in their childhood, Gob had normally taken some care of baby Buster. Even though their relationship seemed rough around the edges, the truth was that Gob really did want the best for Buster, and Buster really did want the best for everyone. Even though Gob wasn’t particularly happy to be in prison and away from Tony, being with Buster wasn’t the end of the world. Buster had been allowed to bring a pack of cards, and he and Gob sat and played a few games, even though Gob always won by hiding the cards he wanted up his sleeves, and flinging them all in the air when Buster seemed to be winning. But, all was good. They laughed, they smiled, and they made the best of a situation that wasn’t always the easiest.  
  
“Do you think it’s, you know, okay, if I’m with Tony Wonder?”  
  
“Of course I do,” giggled Buster. “You two seem cuuu-ute! There’s nothing wrong with that!”  
  
The two continued to play, with a mutual understanding, until a ruffled looking police officer appeared at the cell door. “Gob? You’re free to go. We, er... saw the tape.That was...quite the tape... It...seems legitimate... and I really hope we never have to look at it again, because it’s....well, nevermind. But the time stamps seem right, and uh... well that’s definitely you. Your alibi checks out, and we...never want to see it again. Go ahead.”   
  
As Gob was released from the cell, he glanced at the officer. “Could...could I have that DVD back? I need it for...reasons.” The officer just looked at him despairingly, and he decided not to press the issue. Waving goodbye to Buster, he followed the officer out to the waiting area, where he saw Tony waiting.  “You...came for me,” he said with glee, giving him a hug.    
“Yes, Gobie. Of course I did. Let’s take you home now,” Tony replied, hugging him back.   
  
“Yes. Let’s take me home.”  
  
Gob wasn’t entirely sure where home was, but if Tony was taking him, it must be okay.


End file.
